And the fierce fire that is in thee burns with increasing flare
Till careless eyes which rest on thee may wonder at the glare.
Wilt thou return here? If I thought—but no, it cannot be—
Thou art so swift, yet easy curbed, so punctual “to a T”!
And though most surely now thou’rt gone my lonely heart will yearn,
Yet the man who loses thee cannot command thee to return.
Return! alas, my railway train, what shall this traveller do
Now thou, who wert his travelling home, has vanished from his view?
When the dim distance cheats my eye, and through my gathering tears
Thy bright light for a moment like a Will-o’-the-wisp appears,