. Switch lights . was far less gay, For loss of him we held so dear.^^Oh, Chuck!— Look out— for the— switch! ^Watch out— for the^— switch— Chuck!Thus from the distant, unknown land,This friend and brother of the railMethinks is calling—that his hand Will guard the switch for yonder veil—^Oh, Chuck!— Cheer!— Im at— the switch! SWITCH-LIGHTS. 33 Ht eventide- The western sun-kissed hills are shadowed; A sable mist, the east; Heavens signal lights are blazing brightly While flies a lonely bird Across the way, where pants our racer Through perfumed evening air That dashes oer our face in torrents;
. Switch lights . was far less gay, For loss of him we held so dear.^^Oh, Chuck!— Look out— for the— switch! ^Watch out— for the^— switch— Chuck!Thus from the distant, unknown land,This friend and brother of the railMethinks is calling—that his hand Will guard the switch for yonder veil—^Oh, Chuck!— Cheer!— Im at— the switch! SWITCH-LIGHTS. 33 Ht eventide- The western sun-kissed hills are shadowed; A sable mist, the east; Heavens signal lights are blazing brightly While flies a lonely bird Across the way, where pants our racer Through perfumed evening air That dashes oer our face in torrents; Past shafts that mark the dead. Around a curve of lurking terrors, Into the treacherous ^^points Marked by the little green eyes winking In horror, as we crash Through many a quaint and curious village Where watch and wonder souls Who shrink—then stare—then wait and listen As in a cloud of dust we thunder. And echo and are lost To all—are folded in the pockets Of silent, creeping 34 SWITCH-LIGHTS. Cbrougb the fog. How silently out of the bosom of nightThe fog rises up for its onward flight!The fences stand like a line of ghosts—The smallest shrubs grow to good sized posts-Like Will-o-th-wisps seem the lamps of the townAs this white terror creeps closer down;The church tower shortens—then fades from viewAt the silent touch of this phantom crew,And, one by one, the things that we knowAre changed and lost as we blindly go. On! into this mystical shroud we dive, And through its dark depths we swiftly drive, With never a mark to guide us on— For the moon and the stars and the heavens are gone! The forests and meadows are ours no more— Suppressed is the sound of our heavy roar; The headlight rays are all beaten back Before revealing the hidden track; The mile posts—order boards—each switch light— Are buried and blurred from our anxious sight! Yet, deep in the mists as still as the tomb. We guide our trust through this awful gloom, As
Size: 1628px × 1534px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectrailroa, bookyear1902