THE NIGHT EXPRESS.
BY WILLIAM HURD HILLYER.
THERE's a light at last in the sable mist, and it hangs like
a rising star
On the border-line 'twixt earth and sky, where the rails run straight
And deeply sounds from hill to hill, in mighty monotone,
A distant voicea hoarse, wild note with savage warning blown.
'Tis the night express, and well 't is named, for behold! from
out the night
It comes and darkly adown the rails it looms to the startled sight
Larger, nearer, nearer yettill at last there's a clang and
A wave of heat, and a gleam of red from a closing furnace door;
Then the crash and shriek of the rushing trainand our hearts
beat fast and high
When sudden and swift through the shadowy mist the night express
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