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.



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