- This page is inside graphic framing elements or rules.
An image should appear at this position in the text. To use the entire page scan as a placeholder, edit this page and replace "{{missing image}}" with "{{raw image|Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v108.djvu/102}}". Otherwise, if you are able to provide the image then please do so. For guidance, see Wikisource:Image guidelines and Help:Adding images. |  |
I never saw the hills so far,
And blue, the way the pictures are
And flowers, flowers, growing thick,
But not a one for me to pick!
The land was running from the train,
All blurry through the window-pane;
And then it all looked flat and still,
When up there jumped a little hill!
I saw the windows, and the spires,
And sparrows sitting on the wires;
And fences running up and down;
And then we cut straight through a town.
I saw a valley like a cup;
And ponds that twinkled, and dried up;
I counted meadows that were burnt;
And there were trees, and then there weren't
We crossed the bridges with a roar,
Then (illegible text) the way we went before.
And tunnels made it dark and light
Like open-work of day and night;
Until I saw the chimneys rise,
And lights, and lights, and lights, like eyes.
And when they took me through the door,
I heard it all begin to roar.
I thought—as far as I could see—
That everybody wanted me!
