Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Travel

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 friends I make, 
    And better friends I’ll not be knowing; 
Yet there isn’t a train I’d rather take, 
    No matter where it’s going.

1. MacDougal Street
2. The Fledgling
3. Low-Tide
4. Well, I Have Lost You
5. The Suicide

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