For five and twenty years I've run <br /> A famous train; <br />But now my spell of speed is done, <br /> No more I'll strain <br />My sight along the treadless tracks, <br /> The gleamy rails: <br />My hand upon the throttle slacks, <br /> My vision fails. <br /> <br />No more I'll urge my steed of steel <br /> Through hostile nights; <br />No more the mastery I'll feel <br /> Of monster might. <br />I'll miss the hiss of giant steam, <br /> The clank, the roar; <br />The agony of brakes that scream <br /> I'll hear no more. <br /> <br />Oh I have held within my hand <br /> A million lives; <br />And now my son takes command <br /> And proudly drives; <br />While from my cottage wistfully <br /> I watch his train, <br />And wave and wave and seem to see <br /> Myself again.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-engine-driver/
