A Word About Transport: Poems by Wordsworth, Pound, and Frost

"On the Projected Kendal and Windermere Railway"

By Willi am Wordsworth (1770 — 1850)

Is then no nook of English ground secure

From rash assault? Schemes of retirement sown

In youth, and ’mid the busy world kept pure

As when their earliest flowers of hope were blown,

Must perish; – how can they this blight endure?

And must he too the ruthless change bemoan

Who scorns a false utilitarian lure

’Mid his paternal fields at random thrown?

Baffle the threat, bright Scene, from Orresthead

Given to the pausing traveller’s rapturous glance:

Plead for thy peace, thou beautiful romance

Of nature; and, if human hearts be dead,

Speak, passing winds; ye torrents, with your strong

And constant voice, protest against the wrong.

"In a Station of the Metro"

By Ezra Pound (1885 — 1972)

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;

Petals on a wet, black bough.

"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"

By Robert Frost (1874 — 1963)

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

ARTpublika Magazine