The quaint little depot stands there still
A memory that ever remains
When smoke rising up from over the hill
Announced the approaching trains.
The station agent with impressive cap
Picks up the worn mail sack
And stands alert, a dignified chap,
As the train moves down the track.
Some friends press in to say goodbye
And others to say hello,
These are the memories that you and I
Retain from the long ago.
Nostalgic though our thoughts may be
And near are hidden tears,
‘Tis better far for you and me
To advance with the passing years.
But when we reach that promised land
Where eternal joys begin
Wouldn’t it be a thrill so grand
To see some trains steam in ?
– Lloyd Carleton Shank
Poet of the Hills