It was a perfect night for a train. The occasional whistle told Louis of all the farewells he had ever known.
Charles Tennyson Turner
2.
The little bee returns with evening's gloom, To join her comrades in the braided hive, Where, housed beside their might honey-comb, They dream their polity shall long survive.
Charles Tennyson Turner
3.
The rainbow bursts like magic on mine eyes! In hues of ancient promise there imprest.
Charles Tennyson Turner
4.
When the whistle blew and the call stretched thin across the night, one had to believe that any journey could be sweet to the soul.