The Train is Coming

The train is coming, coming, It whistles, don't you hear? I saw the smoking engine, And soon they will be here. The train is coming, coming, It is already here, I think that handsome Willie, I'm sure, he'll soon appear.

I've waited long to see him, And thought the train was slow; But now I see it stopping, And Willie's come, I know. I got, on Sunday morning, The sweetest billet-doux, It had a white envelope, And his initials, too.

I read it, then I started, To hear the sermon through, But I could not hear the sermon, For all that I could do. For it said that he was coming, Without mistake to-day, That he was growing weary Of things and folks away.

But list! the bell is ringing, And here is Willie's card; I'll meet him in the parlor, For I am quite prepar'd, To answer any questions That Willie now may ask, And then to serve and love him, Will be my daily task.