Explore "Travel" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The railroad track is miles away, / And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn't a train goes by all day / But I hear its whistle shrieking.
All night there isn't a train goes by, / Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
But I see its cinders red on the sky, / And hear its engine steaming.
My heart is warm with the friends I make, / And better friends I'll not be knowing;
Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take, / No matter where it's going.