tracks

the railway station

the darkness brings no quiet here, the light
no waking: ever on my blinded brain
the flare of lights, the rush, and cry, and strain, 
the engines' scream, the hiss and thunder smite: 
i see the hurrying crowds, the clasp, the flight, 
faces that touch, eyes that are dim with pain: 
i see the hoarse wheels turn, and the great train
move labouring out into the bourneless night. 
so many souls within its dim recesses, 
so many bright, so many mournful eyes: 
mine eyes that watch grow fixed with dreams and guesses; 
what threads of life, what hidden histories, 
what sweet or passionate dreams and dark distresses, 
what unknown thoughts, what various agonies! 

archibald lampman