The railroad track is miles away, <br />And the day is loud with voices speaking, <br />Yet there isn't a train goes by all day <br />But I hear its whistle shrieking. <br /> <br />All night there isn't a train goes by, <br />Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming, <br />But I see its cinders red on the sky, <br />And hear its engine steaming. <br /> <br />My heart is warm with friends I make, <br />And better friends I not be knowing; <br />Yet there isn't a train I'd rather take, <br />No matter where it's going.<br /><br />Edna St Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/travel-5/
