I hear the far-off whistle of a train, And distant scenes again my mind enchain. Once more I find myself in canyons, cool, With restive trout immured in every pool; Or, standing, clear, on far Tibetan heights, I feel, anew, the lure of mystic nights; Enchanting views return to thrill my soul. Again the deep Pacific's breakers roll And cast their wanton wreckage at my feet; I sense her waters' rhythmic throb and beat. Long camel-caravans, slow-paced and grey, Among the shifting sand dunes wind their way, One magic day. The marvels of St. Peter's dome And all the crumbling crypts of ancient Rome Invite my soul. ... All this comes swiftly back Because a train has whistled on the track. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAREWELL OF A VIRGINIA SLAVE MOTHER TO HER DAUGHTERS SOLD INTO BONDAGE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO ONE WHO ASKS by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS AUGUST SUNSET OVER LAKE CHAMPLAIN by FRANK A. BALCH THE WOLD WALL by WILLIAM BARNES NAENIAE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON FOURTH OF JULY IN VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |