Home Thoughts from the Highway.

Dimly, dimly in my headlights phantoms large and lethal lay.

Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking through the shades of grey,

Mixed with rain my windscreen-wiper vainly tried to wipe away.

Bluish mid the burning water, full in face a horse-drawn dray

From the dimmest, darkest distance grew as near as judgment day.

"Here and there a glimpse to help me - how can I help crashing?" say.

Whoso drives as I this evening takes in turn to drive and pray,

While Joves raindrops scatter round me in unceasing, blinding spray.

* * *

Home is the traveler, home from the sea.

What a pity we've kept him no tea!

* * *

The hideous hue that William is

was not originally his.

It seems to be some ghastly prank

played by the tellers at the bank.