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"Such scenes in Scotland sure are rife;
I'm weary hot, upon my life!"
"Alack! there'll be no room for us;
Let's get into the homnibus."
"O pray, my dear! don't make such fuss,
If we should lose the Railway."
Blowing, glowing all the way,
Crying upon the train to stay:
We'll never get to town to-day,
Upon the morning Railway.

Now the crowded Station gain'd.
Rain-bedrench'd and mud-bestain'd.
Melting-brow'd and asthma-pain'd,
Hurrying to the Railway.
A boat has just arriv'd before,
Which later left a nearer shore,
And fills a full-siz'd train and more,
Which is a most confounded bore;
But coach to coach are quickly join'd—
Which surely is surpassing kind:
And off we fly as fleet as wind,
Upon the Greenock Railway.
Thus the sports of railway speed,
Nought on earth can now exceed,
Except my song, which all must read,
About the Greenock Railway.

The moral of my song I add,
To make you married ladies glad,
Who lately were a little sad—
Before the Greenock Railway.