Speed along with fire and fury!
Hark! the whistle shrilly shrieks!
Speed—but mark! we don't insure ye
'Gainst the boiler's frolic freaks.
But before a trip is ventured,
This precaution prudence begs:
When you've seen your luggage enter'd,
Also book your arms and legs.
Ask not if yon luckless stoker,
Blown into the air, survive—
These are trifles, while the broker
Quotes our shares at Ninety-five.
Vainly points some bleeding spectre
To his mangled remnants;—still
Calmly answers each Director,
"Charge the damage to the bill."
All the perils which environ
(As the poet now would sing)
Him who meddles with hot iron,
Seem to us a pleasant thing.
Countless lines, from Lewes to Lerwick,
Cross like nets the country soon;
Soon a railway (Atmospheric,)
Speeds our progress to the moon.
Traversing yon space between us,
Soon the rapid trains will bring
Ores from Mars and fires from Venus,
Lots of lead from Saturn's Ring;
Belts from Jupiter's own factory,
Mercury from Maia's Son;
And when summers look refractory,
Bottled sunbeams from the sun.
If too soaring, too seraphic,
Seems to some that heavenward track,
T'other way there's much more traffic,
Though not many travel back.