The Age of SteamA Poem by David Lewis PagetThe news spread over the countryside As a clatter from iron rails, The ominous sound of clacketty-clack From their intersecting trails, The plodding Goods of the 0-4-0 To the proud Express from Cheam, It muttered as it was going past, ‘They’re going to get rid of Steam!’
The sudden shock brought an answering hoot From the stack of the proud Express, That whispered by on its 4-6-2 But shuddered to draw its breath. ‘And what will they pull their Pullmans with?’ As it passed through an April shower, A 4-6-0 on another track: ‘They’re moving to diesel power!’
The steam from the Earl of Erin laid A trail through the valley floor, Its coals glowed red from the firebox grid As the fireman shovelled more, A Day Excursion that quietly sat To wait for the train to pass, Had whispered, ‘Sorry to see you go, You’re King of the Master Class.’
The smoke that billowed from out the stack Had turned from white to black, The footplate shuddered, the furnace roared As it raced along the track, ‘They say they’re moving to diesel power And they’re getting rid of steam,’ The Earl of Erin had hurtled by As a Tank Engine had screamed!
The driver, checking the frantic pace Was trying to slow it down, But nothing worked, not even the brakes, ‘We’re headed for Hampton Town! We shouldn’t be doing sixty-five We’re twenty over the top, He slammed the door of the firebox shut And the fireman’s shovel dropped.
The tender’s couplings opened up And the Pullmans fell away, The Earl of Erin had surged ahead With a new found power that day, It passed a struggling 0-4-0 As it headed toward the sea, Gave one long blast on its whistle then To say, ‘I’m finally free!’
The fireman jumped at the water tower, The glass was going down, The driver jumped when it hurtled through The Halt at Hampton Town, The Earl of Erin went racing on When the sea came into view, But locked the brakes at the water’s edge Just as the boiler blew.
The Earl of Erin’s a rusted wreck That still sits there on the line, And children crawl on its footplate there And dream of another time, A time of dragons, a time of trains A time they can only dream, The age of romance, gone at last, It died with the age of steam!
David Lewis Paget © 2014 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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