And our oil-lamps dimly burning.
No useless tears, though we loved him well!
Long years to his fire-box had bound us.
We fancied we glimpsed the great shade of BRUNEL,
In sad sympathy hovering round us.
Few and gruff were the words we said,
But we thought, with a natural sorrow,
Of the Narrow-Gauge foe of the Loco. just dead,
We should have to attend on the morrow.
We thought, as we hollowed his big broad bed,