The Railroad Engineer
THOUGH a railroad, learned Rector,
Passes near your parish spire;
Think not, sir, your Sunday lecture
E'er will overwhelmed expire.
Put not then your hopes in weepers,
Solid work my road secures;
Preach whate'er you will--my sleepers
Never will awaken yours.
These lines will be read with a deep interest, as being literally the
last ever written by their highly-gifted and deeply-lamented
author,--James Smith.