- THE railroad track is miles away,
- And the day is loud with voices speaking,
- Yet there isn't a train goes by all day
- But I hear its whistle shrieking.
- All night there isn't a train goes by,
- Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
- But I see its cinders red on the sky,
- And hear its engine steaming.
- My heart is warm with the friends I make,
- And better friends I'll not be knowing;
- Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,
- No matter where it's going.
- Edna St. Vincent Millay
