<h2><SPAN name="page78"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>THOUGHTS AT A RAILWAY STATION.</h2>
<p class="poetry">’<span class="smcap">Tis</span> but a
box, of modest deal;<br/>
Directed to no matter where:<br/>
Yet down my cheek the teardrops steal—<br/>
Yes, I am blubbering like a seal;<br/>
For on it is this mute appeal,<br/>
“<i>With
care</i>.”</p>
<p class="poetry">I am a stern cold man, and range<br/>
Apart: but those vague words “<i>With
care</i>”<br/>
Wake yearnings in me sweet as strange:<br/>
Drawn from my moral Moated Grange,<br/>
I feel I rather like the change<br/>
Of air.</p>
<p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page79"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
79</span>Hast thou ne’er seen rough pointsmen spy<br/>
Some simple English phrase—“<i>With
care</i>”<br/>
Or “<i>This side uppermost</i>”—and cry<br/>
Like children? No? No more have I.<br/>
Yet deem not him whose eyes are dry<br/>
A bear.</p>
<p class="poetry">But ah! what treasure hides beneath<br/>
That lid so much the worse for wear?<br/>
A ring perhaps—a rosy wreath—<br/>
A photograph by Vernon Heath—<br/>
Some matron’s temporary teeth<br/>
Or hair!</p>
<p class="poetry">Perhaps some seaman, in Peru<br/>
Or Ind, hath stow’d herein a rare<br/>
Cargo of birds’ eggs for his Sue;<br/>
With many a vow that he’ll be true,<br/>
And many a hint that she is too,<br/>
Too fair.</p>
<p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page80"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
80</span>Perhaps—but wherefore vainly pry<br/>
Into the page that’s folded there?<br/>
I shall be better by and by:<br/>
The porters, as I sit and sigh,<br/>
Pass and repass—I wonder why<br/>
They stare!</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.