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This poem is often wrongly thought to be by Robert W Service. It is published here to the memory of Hugh Antoine D'Arcy, its rightful father.
An Evening with the Bard of the Yukon, July 18 th 2003 at 20.30pm in the Town-Hall of Lancieux, Brittany.
All Entries 1997 - 2002
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Old Engine Driver

Published by Susan on 08/08/2003 (2637 reads)
For five and twenty years I've run...

For five and twenty years I've run
        A famous train;
But now my spell of speed is done,
        No more I'll strain
My sight along the treadless tracks,
        The gleamy rails:
My hand upon the throttle slacks,
        My vision fails.

No more I'll urge my steed of steel
        Through hostile nights;
No more the mastery I'll feel
        Of monster might.
I'll miss the hiss of giant steam,
        The clank, the roar;
The agony of brakes that scream
        I'll hear no more.

Oh I have held within my hand
        A million lives;
And now my son takes command
        And proudly drives;
While from my cottage wistfully
        I watch his train,
And wave and wave and seem to see
        Myself again.

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