Robert William Service

(16 January 1874 - 11 September 1958 / Preston)

Old Engine Driver - Poem by Robert William Service

For five and twenty years I've run
A famous train;
But now my spell of speed is done,
No more I'll strain
My sight along the treadless tracks,
The gleamy rails:
My hand upon the throttle slacks,
My vision fails.

No more I'll urge my steed of steel
Through hostile nights;
No more the mastery I'll feel
Of monster might.
I'll miss the hiss of giant steam,
The clank, the roar;
The agony of brakes that scream
I'll hear no more.

Oh I have held within my hand
A million lives;
And now my son takes command
And proudly drives;
While from my cottage wistfully
I watch his train,
And wave and wave and seem to see
Myself again.


Comments about Old Engine Driver by Robert William Service

  • Rookie - 108 Points Brian Jani (5/24/2014 5:19:00 AM)

    Robert you know how to write man (Report) Reply

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  • Rookie - 108 Points Brian Jani (5/24/2014 5:19:00 AM)

    Robert you know how to write man (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »



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Read poems about / on: son, running



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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