I Like To See It Lap the Miles

I like to see it lap the Miles--
And lick the Valleys up--
And stop to feed itself at Tanks--
And then - prodigious step

Around a Pile of Mountains--
And supercilious peer
In Shanties - by the sides of Roads--
And then a Quarry pare

To fit its Ribs
And crawl between
Complaining all the while
In horrid - hooting stanza--
Then chase itself down Hill--

And neigh like Boanerges--
Then - punctual as a Star
Stop - docile and omnipotent
At its own stable door--