An Engine-Driver’s Epitaph
In the cemetery at Alton, Illinois, there is a tombstone bearing the following inscription:—
“My engine is now cold and still.
No water does my boiler fill.
My coke affords its flame no more,
My days of usefulness are o’er;
My wheels deny their noted speed,
No more my guiding hand they heed;
My whistle—it has lost its tone,
Its shrill and thrilling sound is gone;
My valves are now thrown open wide,
My flanges all refuse to glide;
My clacks—alas! though once so strong,
Refuse their aid in the busy throng;
No more I feel each urging breath,
My steam is now condensed in death;
Life’s railway o’er, each station past,
In death I’m stopped, and rest at last.”
This epitaph was written by an engineer on the old Chicago and Mississippi Railroad, who was fatally injured by an accident on the road; and while he lay awaiting the death which he knew to be inevitable, he wrote the lines which are engraved upon his tombstone.