Explore "The Division Superintendent" by Ambrose Bierce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Baffled he stands upon the track -- / The automatic switches clack.
Where'er he turns his solemn eyes / The interlocking signals rise.
The trains, before his visage pale, / Glide smoothly by, nor leave the rail.
No splinter-spitted victim he / Hears uttering the note high C.
In sorrow deep he hangs his head, / A-weary -- would that he were dead.
Now suddenly his spirits rise -- / A great thought kindles in his eyes.
Hope, like a headlight's vivid glare, / Splendors the path of his despair.
His genius shines, the clouds roll back -- / "I'll place obstructions on the track!"