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Edgar Guest - On Station Farewells
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IN parting from a dear old friend for months, perhaps, or years, 
There`s bound to be some bitter sobs, an` generally tears,
An` as a rule, the lovin` ones will gather round about 
The station, softly cry in` while the train is pullin` out; 
Oh, it`s so hard to say good-bye, an` kiss each tender cheek, 
Coz there`s a lump in every throat, an` no one dares to speak. 
Good-bye is always hard to say to friends you know are true,
But ten times harder when the train that waits for them`s in view.

When comes the time for me to go upon a little trip, 
I always wait until the last before I pack my grip; 
An` always try to hide the fact that I am goin` away, 
An` do my best to keep the folks in cheerful mood an` gay.
A railroad station`s mighty glum when friends are goin` out, 
It sorter shakes a fellow`s nerve an` fills his heart with doubt;
An` so I`d rather say good-bye at home the times we part, 
An` then sneak on the train alone — it`s easier on the heart.

There`s something `bout a train that leaves a depot with your friends, 
That fills your soul with grievin` an` a thrill of sorrow sends 
All over those who watch it, till it disappears from sight,
An` the bravest can`t help cryin` when it fades into the night. 
I love to have them meet me when I `m comin` home once more, 
But when I `m goin` from them, then I kiss them at the door 
An` wave my hand in partin`, as I hurry down the street, 
An` then sneak on the train alone, an` sink into my seat.

Outgoing trains are sad ones — incoming ones are gay, 
It isn`t hard to tell the folks who `re goin` far away; 
In stations little groups are seen, an` O, so oft, I note 
A mother tryin` hard to down the lump that`s in her throat; 
It seems she`s tied her heart-strings to the train that`s waiting there, 
An` the tug that comes at partin` is far more than she can bear; 
An` I`ve come to this conclusion, that whene`er I have to roam, 
I`ll board the train unnoticed, with my "good-byes" said at home.
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