And long white shining lines of bones,
Make needless sign or white mile-stones.
The wild man's yell, the groaning wheel;
The train that moved like drifting barge;
The dust that rose up like a cloud,
Like smoke of distant battle! Loud
The great whips rang like shot, and steel
Of antique fashion, crude and large,
Flash'd back as in some battle charge.
They sought, yea, they did find their rest