Author John Banister Tabb TO-NIGHT the onward-rushing train Would bear thee far from me; But, winged with swifter dreams, again My spirit flies to thee. Nay, speeding far beyond thee, waits To welcome thee anew, Where Dawn is opening the gates To let the darkness through. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments