That never a plank such a couple did grace;
While the stoker did fret; and the engine did fume,
And the station-clerk wink’d in his little back-room,
And the navvys all whisper’d, “Ay, Bill, what d’ye say?
They’d make a neat couple, that gal and young J.”
One touch of her hand, and one word in her ear,
And they open’d a carriage that by them stood near;
So light o’er the cushions the fair lady sprung—
So light the policeman the bright brass bell rung—
“She is won! we are off! there’s no train in the way,