 Up the Line, by Will Carliton, read for LibriVox.org by Algy Pug, Perth, Western Australia. Through blinding storm and clouds of night, we swiftly pushed our restless flight, with thundering hoof and warning neigh, we urged our steed upon his way, up the line. A father lofty headlight gleamed, a father whistle shrieked and screamed, and glistening bright and rising high, our flakes of fire bestrewed the sky, up the line. A down the long complaining track, our wheels and message hurried back, and quivering through the rails ahead, when news of our resistless tread, up the line. The trees gave back our din and shout, and flung their shadow arms about, and shivering in their coats of grey, they heard us roaring far away, up the line. The wailing storm came on a pace, and dashed its tears into our face, but steadily still we pierced it through, and cut the sweeping wind into, up the line. A rattling rush across the ridge, a thunder peel beneath the bridge, and valley and hill and sober plain, re-echoed our triumphant strain, up the line. When the eastern streaks of grey bespoke the dawn of coming day, we halted our steed, his journey o'er, and urged his giant form no more, up the line. End of poem This recording is in a public domain. Up the Line by Will Carleton, read for LibriVox.org by David Lawrence After blinding storm and clouds of night, we swiftly pushed our restless flight. With thundering hoof and warning neigh, we urged our steed upon his way, up the line. A far-the-lofty headlight gleamed, a far-the whistle shrieked and screamed, and glistening bright and rising high, our flakes of fire bestrewed the sky, up the line. A down-the-long, complaining track, our wheels a message hurried back, and quivering through the rails ahead went news of our resistless tread, up the line. The trees gave back our din and shout, and flung their shadow arms about, and shivering in their coats of grey they heard us roaring far away, up the line. The whaling storm came on apace, and dashed its tears into our face, but steadily still we pierced it through, and cut the sweeping wind into, up the line. A rattling rush across the ridge, a thunder-peel beneath the bridge, and valley and hill and sober plain we echoed our triumphant strain, up the line. And when the eastern streaks of grey bespoke the dawn of coming day, we halted our steed, his journey o'er, and urged his giant form no more, up the line. Through blinding storm and clouds of night we swiftly pushed our restless flight, with thundering hoof and warning nay, we urged our steed upon his way, up the line. A far the lofty headlight gleamed, a far the whistle shrieked and screamed, and glistening bright and rising high, our flakes of fire bestrewed the sky, up the line. A down-the-long, complaining track, our wheels a message hurried back, and quivering through the rails ahead went news of our resistless tread, up the line. The trees gave back our din and shout, and flung their shadow arms about, and shivering in their coats of grey they heard us roaring far away, up the line. The wailing storm came on apace, and dashed its tears into our face, but steadily still we pierced it through, and cut the sweeping wind into, up the line. A rattling rush across the bridge, a thunder-peel beneath the bridge, and valley and hill and sober plain we echoed our triumphant strain, up the line. And when the eastern streaks of grey bespoke the dawn of coming day, we halted our steed, his journey o'er, and urged his giant form no more, up the line. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. UP THE LINE By Will Calton Read for LibriVox.org by James O'Connor February 2010 Through blinding storm and clouds of night we swiftly pushed our restless flight, with thundering hoof and warning ney, we urged our steed upon his way, up the line. A far the lofty headlight gleamed, a far the whistle shrieked and screamed, and glistening bright and rising high our flakes of fire bestrewed the sky, up the line. Down the long complaining track our wheels a message hurried back, and quivering through the rails ahead, with news of our resistless tread, up the line. The trees gave back our din and shout, and flung their shadow-arms about, and shivering in their coats of grey, they heard us roaring far away, up the line. The wailing storm came on a pace, and dashed its tears into our face, but steadily still we pierced it through, and cut the sweeping wind in two, up the line. A rattling rush across the ridge, a thunder-peel beneath the bridge, and valley and hill and sober plain re-echoed our triumphant strain, up the line. And when the eastern streaks of grey bespoke the dawn of coming day, we halted our steed, his journey o'er, and urged his giant form no more, up the line. In the poem, this recording is in the public domain. Up the Line by Will Carlton, read for liveryvox.org by Carl Berrake, Sellersville, Pennsylvania, USA. Through blinding storm and clouds of night, we swiftly pushed our restless flight. With thundering hoof and warning nigh, we urged our steed upon his way, up the line. A far-the-lofty headlight gleamed, a far-the whistle shrieked and screamed, and glistening bright and rising high, our flakes of fire bestrewed the sky, up the line. A down-the-long complaining track, our wheels a message hurried back, and quivering through the rails ahead, went news of our restless tread, up the line. The trees gave back our din and shout, and flung their shadow arms about, and quivering in their coats of grey, they heard us roaring far away, up the line. The wailing storm came on a pace, and dashed its tears into our face, but steady still we pierced it through, and cut the weeping wind into, up the line. A rattling rush across the ridge, a thunder peel beneath the bridge, and valley and hill and sober plain re-echoed our triumphant strain, up the line. And when the eastern streaks of grey bespoke the dawn of coming day, we halted our steed, his journey o'er, and urged his giant form no more, up the line. Up the line by Will Carlton, read for Libbervox.org by L. Lambert Lawson. Through blinding storm and clouds of night, we swiftly pushed our restless flight, with thundering hoof and warning neigh, we urged our steed upon his way, up the line. A far-the-lofty headlight gleamed, a far-the-wistle shrieked and screamed, and glistening bright and rising high, our flakes of fire bestrewed the sky, up the line. A down-the-long, complaining track, our wheels a message hurried back, and quivering through the rails ahead went news of our resistless tread, up the line. The trees gave back our din and shout, and flung their shadow arms about, and shivering in their coats of grey they heard us roaring far away, up the line. The oiling storm came on a pace, and dashed its tears into our face, but steadily still we pierced it through, and cut the sweeping wind into, up the line. A rattling rush across the ridge, a thunder-peel beneath the bridge, and valley and hill and sober plain re-echoed our triumphant strain, up the line. And when the eastern streaks of grey bespoke the dawn of coming day, we halted our steed his journey over, and urged his giant form no more, up the line. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Up the Line by Will Carlton Read for LibriVox.org by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina Through blinding storm and clouds of night we swiftly pushed our restless flight, With thundering hoof and warning-nay we urged our steed upon his way, up the line. A far the lofty headlight gleamed, a far the whistle shrieked and screamed, and glistening bright and rising high our flakes of fire bestrewed the sky, up the line. A down the long complaining track, our wheels a message hurried back, and quivering through the rails ahead went news of our resistless tread, up the line. The trees gave back our dinning shout and flung their shadow-arms about, and shivering in their coats of grey they heard us roaring far away up the line. The wailing storm came on a pace, and dashed its tears into our face, but steadily still we pierced it through and cut the sweeping wind into, up the line. Of rattling rush across the ridge, a thunder-peel beneath the bridge, and valley and hill and sober plain re-echoed our triumphant strain up the line. And when the eastern streaks of grey bespoke the dawn of coming day, we halted our steed, his journey o'er, and urged his giant form no more, up the line. Through a blinding storm and clouds of night, we swiftly pushed our restless flight. With thundering cough and warning nigh, we urged our steed upon his way, up the line. A far the lofty headlight gleamed, a far the whistle shrieked and screamed, and glistening bright and rising high, our flakes of fire bestrew the sky, up the line. A down-the-long complaining track, our wheels on message hurried back, and quivering through the rails ahead went news of our resistless tread, up the line. The trees gave back our din and shout, and flung their shadow arms about. And shivering in their coats of grey, they heard us roaring far away, up the line. The wailing storm came on a pace and dashed its tears into our face, but steadily still we pierced it through, and cut the sweeping wind in two, up the line. A rattling rush across the ridge, a thunder-peal beneath the bridge, and valley and hill and sober plain, re-echoed our triumphant strain, up the line. And when the eastern streaks of grey bespoke the dawn of coming day, we halted our seed his journey o'er, and urged his giant form no more, up the line. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Weftly pushed our restless flight, with thundering hoof and warning neigh, we urged our steed upon his way, up the line. A far-the-lofty headlight gleamed, a far-the whistle shrieked and screamed, and glistening bright and rising high, our flakes of fire bestrew the sky, up the line. A down-the-long-complaining track, our wheels a message hurried back, and quivering through the rails ahead, went news of our resistless tread, up the line. The trees gave back our din and shout, and flung their shadow arms about, and shivering in their coats of grey, they heard us roaring far away, up the line. The wailing storm came on a pace, and dashed its tears into our face, but steadily still we pierced it through, and cut the sweeping wind into, up the line. A rattling rush across the ridge, a thunder-peel beneath the bridge, and valley and hill and sober plain, re-echoed our triumphant strain, up the line. And when the eastern streaks of grey bespoke the dawn of coming day, we halted our steed his journey o'er, and urged his giant form no more, up the line. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Up the Line by Will Carlton Through blinding storm and clouds of night, we swiftly pushed our restless flight, with thundering hoof and warning ney, we urged our steed upon his way up the line. Afar the lofty headlight gleamed, afar the whistle shrieked and screamed, and glistening bright and rising high, our flakes of fire bestrewed the sky, up the line. A down the long complaining track, our wheels a message hurried back, and quivering through the rails ahead went news of our resistless tread, up the line. The trees gave back our din and shout, and flung their shadow arms about, and shivering in their coats of grey, they heard us roaring far away, up the line. The wailing storm came on apace, and dashed its tears into our face, but steadily still we pierced it through, and cut the sweeping wind into, up the line. A rattling rush across the ridge, a thunder peel beneath the bridge, and valley and hill and sober plain, re-echoed our triumphant strain, up the line. And when the eastern streaks of grey bespoke the dawn of coming day, we halted our steed, his journey over, and urged his giant form no more, up the line. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.