Richmond enquirer. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1815-1867, 1840-03-03
POETRY.
THE IRON HORSE.
"MucH YET REMAINS uSsuSc."


r, s,,r;,ed noem in late Knickerbocker, entitled TT
ron Horse in other words, the Raiioaa
Glowing: :,
Tb,ra were noble steeds in the days Of old,
They were fierce in battle, in danger bold;
Tbey clankcd in armor, and shone III soid,
And tiIey bore their riders with lordiy pride;
R,,t The Iron Horse, there were none Ike MN:
He wirs you along Till your eye Is dm,
,Ti,I vour brain is crazed, and your senses SWIM,
With the dizzy landscape on either side:
lie sprinrs away with sudden hound
His hoof, uDsiodden, spurns the ground,
His nosr dashes tue foaih around,
Like the tirN faint clouds of thunder shower:
And a stated moment he ever hath,
When he PUSHES forth on his iron path,
And wo 10 him who shall rouse his wrath,
Ey curbng him in, beyond the honf;
While other sleeds must he champins hay,
Must repose by night and be fed by day,
Let the Iron Horse have his level way,
And he asks for more than his hire and water,
lie wears no bride, nor curling cbain
lie brooks no spur, and he needs no rein;
Only him forth On The open pam,
And he'll be the last horse To weary or ioer:
All seasons and times he will fearless brave,
Whether hot shines the sum- or III north winds rave;
lie flies DER the earth and he rides . the S @aGss
lie negbs aloud as he dashes by,
And the fire sparks flash from his cleaning eye
And valves rcsound and the hills reply,
To the rapid rush OF the flashing wheeis.
His breath is hot rs the siroc's blast,
As il Kisses forth through his iron teeth,
And il rolls up slow, when he hurries past,
Like the morning mist, In u snowy wreath
And you'd better stand in the van of war,
Where the voicd death shots fly free and tar,
And thousands fall, ere the fight Is done,
Than the path that flies upon
Whenever the hurled and loud rafting car,
Like thunder gust, comes roaringon
But not alone for his ma,chlcss speed,
Do we sin. the praise of this noble sieed;
Such fellow for business the Yankees say,
Can no where be found in the Old world or now;
He will toll all night he will toll all day,
And its hard u tell what he cannot do.
With the old fashioned method Of working with tools,
Our mechanics and artists have nearly all done
For they find II much easier to sill on their stools,
While the work of twenty IS done by one
Not only the speed of this Iron Horse
Is such, that he leaves far behind in tho course
All the hectest racets that ever were shod;
He's the fastest workman that ever you saw;
He'll set more card teeth, and braid more straw,
Than all the fair maids from New York 10 Cape Cod
To be he won't work alone, but then
Not a fig would he give for his choice In men:
Only lei him have one, howe'et loose his wits,
And he'll spin you yarn, or Knit you n stocking.
With all the crave matrons thai came focking
To cossipping party in old Massachusetts,
They say, beside, TO raise cabbage and beets
In an hour, is but Of his many featS;
He viii warm your room, and cook your dinner,
And when il is ready, he will tell YOU so
And 10 this, You must add, he's mere beginner,
Who lcarnes his trade scarce year ago:
The western men have taught him 10 NOV,
To plough the field and grind their wheat,
And he's ail the same, in rain or snow,
In the winters cold, or the summers heat
In III. land of stern habits, he turns oil clocks
With such fearful rapidiy, II shocks
All the sober bounds of n mans belief;
Give him but rags, and 10. once or twice round,
He'll hand ont book, all printed and bound,
And PACED off in order. from Leaf TO leaf.
Ii he learns for the future as fast
As he has for fcw years past,
And acquires hy the way, the habit of meddling.
The Yankees Will certainly send him out ictdling.