A train rushes onward into the night,
A blaze of light, a meteor bright,
And no one inside knows what lies ahead.
And in the compartments the passengers sprawling,
Doze out the hours crawling,
Or comfortless lawling,
Smoke fags and play cards,
Or make love in the corner.
And passing along with perfunctory glances,
A passenger chances
To see these romances, these boredoms,
A glimpse - and all's gone.
And so as life's train goes relentlessly racing,
Down its corridors pacing
I glimpse them embracing, disputing and thriving -
Fellow travellers all.
A monk, a simple man, and plain,
Knew neither script nor book by name.
His fellows, steeped in Latin lore,
Were wont this rudeness to deplore,
For nothing from his "dull lips" came,
But common praise of Mary's name.
But Mary's pleasure thus was shown,
When death had turned his lips to stone,
Forth sprang five roses, white and pure,
So Maria's name might ere endure.
Ave Maria! Grace be thine,
For simplest faith is love divine.
Up in the wind, where the grey of autum groaned,
And the green grass glistened, and the mad moon moaned,
Up in the wind, I say,
I heard a voice,
Like the soundof elfin piping when the gnomes roam home -
Like happy children dancing,
On twinkling tippy toes,
Like laughter coming after
Lovers' words in corn rows.
Like the thrush's song twice darted,
In a jewelled cascade of sound,
And I knew my love was calling me,
The wide world round.