Home Thoughts from the Highway.
Dimly, dimly in my headlights phantoms large and lethal lay.
Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking through the shades of grey,
Mixed with rain my windscreen-wiper vainly tried to wipe away.
Bluish mid the burning water, full in face a horse-drawn dray
From the dimmest, darkest distance grew as near as judgment day.
"Here and there a glimpse to help me - how can I help crashing?" say.
Whoso drives as I this evening takes in turn to drive and pray,
While Joves raindrops scatter round me in unceasing, blinding spray.
* * *
Home is the traveler, home from the sea.
What a pity we've kept him no tea!
* * *
The hideous hue that William is
was not originally his.
It seems to be some ghastly prank
played by the tellers at the bank.