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The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.
All night there isn’t a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming.
My heart is warm with the friends I make,
And better friends I’ll not be knowing;
Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,
No matter where it’s going.
Public domain.
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I SO SO SO LOVE rhyme! And St Vincent Millay is — for me — such a perfect singer of it!
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Am I terrible to love rhyme?
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I love rhyme as well, Barbara.
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