(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)


I like to see it lap the miles,
And lick the valleys up,
And stop to feed itself at tanks;
And then, prodigious, step

Around a pile of mountains,
And, supercilious, peer
In shanties by the sides of roads;
And then a quarry pare

To fit its sides, and crawl between,
Complaining all the while
In horrid, hooting stanza;
Then chase itself down the hill

And neigh like Boanerges;
Then, punctual as a star,
Stop - docile and omnipotent -
At its own stable door.

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Comments (3)

Everybody likes the train.... and your train poem more Emily
............an amazing and extraordinary poem...visually the train comes alive for me the train becomes an excited spirited stallion running free on a summer's day ★
Whats the meanning of the poem?