Are there any more passengers?
Yes three-but they can't get in,
Too late, too late!-How they bellow and knock,
They might as well try to soften a rock
As the heart of that fellow in green.
For the Night Mail North? what Ho—
(No use to struggle, you can't get thro')
My young and lusty one—
Whither away from the gorgeous town?—
"For the lake and the stream and the heather brown,