World-famous trains my garden pass
    A dozen times a day;
Long and luxurious of class,
    Mid palms they push their way;
And some are bound for Italy,
    While some are bound for Spain;
And some for Berlin on the Spree,
    Or Paris on the Seine.

And as I watch them puff and pull
    My travel feet I feel;
They itch for Zurich and Stramboul,
    For Naples and Seville.
Sleek conjurers of bright desire,
    Of up-and-going pains,
Imagination fast to fire
    Are Continental trains.

The sleeping and the dining cars
    Superbly pass me by,
With richness that the pocket bars
    From scribblers such as I.
My garden where the roses foam
    With love I live amid,
But oh! I dream of golden Rome,
    And glamorous Madrid.

Yet with my blanket on my back
    I youth I beat my way
Along a lousy railway track
    From Maine to Monterey
Ala! What sybarites are we,
    As life's soft twilight wanes,
Who seek the scented luxury
    Of Continental trains!