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From a Railway Carraige

 

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I
Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle,
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill of the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
II
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And there is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart run away in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone forever!