The Nevada journal., 1853-11-11
From Graham's Magazin
RAILROAD SONG.
BY THOMAS H. CHIvERs, NJ. D.

All aboard! Yes !-Tingle, tingle,
Goes the bell as we all mingle-
No one sitting solely single
AS the steam begins to fzzle
With kind of signing sizzle,
Ending in piercing whistle
AS the fireman builds his fire,
And the steam gets higher, higher
Thus fulfilling his desire
Which forever he keeps feeding
With the pine-knots he is needing,
AS he on his way goes speeding
Till the Iron-horse goes rushing,
With his fiery face all flushing,
Everything before him crushing
While the smoke goes upward curling,
Spark-bespangled in unfurling,
And the iron wheels go whirling,
Like two mighty mill-stones grinding,
When no miller is them minding-
All the eye with grit-dust binding
And the cars begin to rattle,
And the springs go tittlc-tattlc,
Driving off the grazing cattle
As if Death were He'll pursuing
To his uttermost undoing,
Down the iron road to ruin,
With clitta, clatta, clatter,
Like the Devil beating batter,
Up in hell, in iron platter,
AS if something was the matter
Then it changes to clanking,
And clinking, and a clanking,
And clauking, and clinkihg,
Then returns again to clatta,
Clitta, clatta, clatta, c,atter,
Like the Devil beating batter
Up in hell in iron platter;
And the song that | now offer
For Apollo's Golden Golfer,
With the Friendship that proffer,
Is for riding on Rail.
Thus. from Station on to Station,
Right along through each Plantation,
AS if He'll, for our damnation,
Had come down with desolation,
This great Iron-horse goes rushing,
With his fiery face all flushing;
Every thing before him crushing;
Sometimes faster, sometimes slower
Sometimes higher, sometimes lower
AS if Time, the great world-mover,
Had come down for his last reaping
OF the nations waiting, weeping
While the engine, overteeming
. With excrutiating screaming,
Spits his vengeance out in steaming;
While the wheels are whirling under,
Like the Chariot wheels of Thunder,
When the lightning rends asunder
All the clouds that steam from Ocean,
When he pays the moon DEVOTION
With grinding hythmic notion
Till the frightened sheep are scattered,
Like the clouds by lightning tattered,
And the Gates of God are battered
With tho clitta. clatta, chatter,
Like the Devil beating batter
Up in He'll in iron platter.
Still repeating clitta, clattcr,
Clitta, clatta, clitta clatter,
AS if something was the matter,
While the woodlands all are ringing,
And the birds forget their singing,
And away to heaven go winging
OF their flight to hear the clatter,
Clitta, clatta, clatta, clatter,
Like the Devil beating batter
Up in He'll, in iron platter;
Which continues so till coming
To straight line, when the humming
Is so mixed up with the drumming,
That the cars begin to rattle,
And the springs ge titte-tattIe--
Frightening all the grazing cattle
Like HeIl's thunder-river roaring,
Over Death dark mountain pouring
Into space, forever boring
Through tn abysmal depths, with clatter
Clitta. clatta, clatta, clatter,
Like the Devil beating batter
Up in He'll, in iron platter
Then expands into a clanking,
And clinking, and clanking,
And q clanking, and a clinking--
Then returns again to clatter,
Clitta, clatta, clatta, clatter,
Like the Devil beasing batter
Up in He'll, in iron platter;
Which subsidies into clandey,
And clinkey, and a cankey,
And clankey, and a clinkey,
And a clinkey, clankey, clankey--
Then to witchey, witchey, witchey,
Chewey-witchey, chewey-witchey--
Chewey-witchey, witchey, witchey;
Then returns again to fizzle,
With kind of signing sizzle-
Ending in piercing whistle
And the song that l now offer
For Apolo's Golden Golfer
With the friendship that proffer--
Is for riding on Rail.