  I never saw the hills so far And blue, the way the pictures are; And flowers, flowers growing thick, But not a one for me to pick! The land was running from the train, All blurry through the window-pane. And then it all looked flat and still, When up there jumped a little hill! I saw the windows and the spires, And sparrows sitting on the wires; And fences, running up and down; And then we cut straight through a town. I saw a Valley, like a cup; And ponds that twinkled, and dried up. THE JOURNEY I counted meadows, that were burnt; And there were trees,—and then there weren't! We crossed the bridges with a roar, Then hummed, the way we went before. And tunnels made it dark and light Like open-work of day and night. Until I saw the chimneys rise, And lights and lights and lights, like eyes. And when they took me through the door, I heard It all begin to roar.— I thought—as far as I could see— That everybody wanted Me! |
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