320 CONSOLATIONS OF SOLITUDE
Hath also his religion, and, I fear.
His pleasure to pure worship comes more near
Than upturned eyes, long prayers, and looks austere.
��THE RAILROAD TRAIN.
FIRST TREATMENT.
What war-ship through the valley rides, Blazing afar midst fog and thunder ? Now o'er the hills in air it glides,
Now dives the lofty mountains under. How fast she flies, by fiery tempests fanned ! Filled by their breath, her smoky sails expand, And bear her proudly on o'er oceans of dry land.
Hath sea-god or enchanter's wand
Thus driven thee from thy native main, In haste so hot to invade the land And cast thy anchors on the plain ? Yet now no ship of war thou seem'st to be. But some rich argosy from Indian sea. By favoring gales impelled, and freighted weightily.
Thy long train, like a fleet of boats,
Moves upon many a shining keel ; Each on a magic river floats.
By wizard spells transformed to steel. And now they skim the fields 'midst clouds of soot, Now swim the stream, now through the gorge they shoot, To reach their inland port, even at the mountain's foot.
Down from the hills I see thee sail, And, joined by mates from every side,
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