Driver of the Train, The

The locomotive driver as hero.


[Note 097.1]


Our gallant soldiers let us toast,
Our gallant tars as well.
What they have done in years gone by,
Our history can tell.
And now as brave a e'er they were,
They do their duty still,
And never turn their backs to foes,
Be numbers what they will

But I've another hero now,
A homely one I know,
But still on him our lives depend,
When going to and fro;
I mean the railway engine driver,
Who drives the railway train,
In thunder storm, in snow and sleet,
In sunshine or in rain.

You always find him at his post, [Note 097.2]
A nerve of iron he
When on his iron horse he is
What e'er the journey be.
His eyes must always be upon
The signals on the way
When rushing on the iron road
He goes from day to day.

When cosy in the carriages
Be it second, first, or third,
As on you travel merrily
For the driver have a word
And think on him how much depends,
To get you home again
Then let us toast success to him
The driver of the train.