Of that selfsame old station,
We lingered, till the whistle blew,
In blissful conversation.
What eyesore thou, old Porte Cochere,
To every traveller seemest!
To me, howe’er, thou shelter gave;
With memories dear thou teemest!
The station’s waiting-room with seats
Extending all around it,
‘Whelms me with recollections fond,