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 I like to see it lap the miles, |
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I like to see it lap the miles, |
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I like to see it lap the
miles,
And lick the valleys up
And stop to feed itself at tanks;
And then -- prodigious step
Around a pile of mountains.
And, supercilious, peer
In shanties by the sides of roads:
And then a quarry pare
To fits its sides, and crawl between.
Complaining all the while
In horrid, hooting stanza:
Then chase itself down hill
And neigh like Boanerges*;
Then, prompter than a star,
Stop -- docile and omnipotent --
At its own stable door.
* Boanerges -- a loud, forceful preacher