The Life Express
When all is said life’s not unlike a train—
Save that we take it if we will or no—
And whence it comes, and whither it will go,
Or if it will companion us again,
No guide books tell, no mapped time tables show;
Nor of the miles ahead can any know—
Whether tomorrow’s road be hill or plain.
For some the swift express; the rumbling freight
For others; some must till the end harrass
Their souls for fare, while others ride in state—
Yet to one end that heeds not caste or class.
When we outside that far Last Station wait
May the Great Agent meet us with a pass.