THE LIGHTS OF THE NIGHT EXPRESS

A midnight ride is the ride for me, when the world is lulled to sleep,
While far on high in an azure sky the stars their vigil keep;
When the evening breezes fan the brow in a soft and sweet caress,
We sing a song as we rush along in the "cab" of the night express.

There are wild weird forms in the woods we pass, and the forests, thick with trees,
Form weird fantastic figures which rebellious fancy sees;
We pass them by as they sob and sigh like beings in distress,
And turn our mind to the cars behind the lights of the night express.

Though the terminus of a railway life, is reached and we shut off steam;
Though memory fades, and life run low, and all seem but a dream;
Our eyes shall shine with a light divine, our load of years seem less,
As through the night shine clear and bright, the lights of the night express.

E. K. G.