FASTER than fairies,
faster than witches,
Bridges and houses,
hedges and ditches;
And charging along
like troops in a battle,
All through the meadows
the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And there is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart run away in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone for ever!
~~ "From a Railway Carriage," Robert Louis Stevenson
