The Engine's Lamp. (A Ballad Of Composure) Poem by Martin Farquhar Tupper

Shining in its silver cell,
Like a Hermit calm and quiet,--
Though so near it, hot as hell,
Furious fires rave and riot,--
Posted as an eye in front,
'Mid the smoke and steam and singeing,
Steadily bears all the brunt
The Lamp upon the railway enginge.

So, thou traveller of life,
In the battle round thee crashing
Heed no more the stormy strife
Than a rock the billows' dashing:
Through this dark and dreary night,
Vexing fears, and cares unhingeing,
Shine, O Mind! aloft, alight,
The Lamp upon the railway engine.

By the oil of Grace well fed,
Ever on the Future gazing,
Let the star within thy head
Steadily and calmly blazing
Hold upon its duteous way
Through each ordeal unflinching,
Trimm'd to burn till dawn of Day,
The Lamp upon the railway engine.

Safe behind a crystal shield,
Though the outer deluge drench us,
Faith forbids a soul to yield,
And no hurricane can quench us:
No! though forced along by fate
At a pace so swift and swingeing,
Calmly shine in silver state,
Ye Lamps on every railway engine!