To a Locomotive in Winter

1THEE for my recitative!

2Thee in the driving storm, even as now—the snow—the winter-day declining;

3Thee in thy panoply, thy measured dual throbbing, and thy beat convulsive;

4Thy black cylindric body, golden brass, and silvery steel;

5Thy ponderous side-bars, parallel and connecting rods, gyrating, shuttling at thy sides;

6Thy metrical, now swelling pant and roar—now tapering in the distance;

7Thy great protruding head-light, fix’d in front;

8Thy long, pale, floating vapor-pennants, tinged with delicate purple;

9The dense and murky clouds out-belching from thy smoke-stack;

10Thy knitted frame—thy springs and valves—the tremulous twinkle of thy wheels;

11Thy train of cars behind, obedient, merrily-following,

12Through gale or calm, now swift, now slack, yet steadily careering:

13Type of the modern! emblem of motion and power! pulse of the continent!

14For once, come serve the Muse, and merge in verse, even as here I see thee,

15With storm, and buffeting gusts of wind, and falling snow;

16By day, thy warning, ringing bell to sound its notes,

17By night, thy silent signal lamps to swing.