Onomatopoetic

Clang! Ting-a-ling! Then a scream of the whistle. Sob! Sob! Sob! Sob! Heaves slowly the breast of the iron-sinewed giant; And the swift paddles fling, Like the down of a thistle, White foam from their blades, while the waters defiant Groan under their merciless tread; and the throb Of the heart grows exultingly faster; Now a race with a tug, and then it is past her-- Glides under the bow of a stately Cunarder-- The steel-lungèd giant breathing harder and harder While nearing the wharves of the City of Vanity To roll from its shoulders the load of humanity. And up near the bow, with arms crossed on the railing, The bold wind with kisses her fair cheeks assailing And tossing her hair from her brow, stands sweet Jennie, Who hopes on the way to the school to meet Bennie. And what he will say she is anticipating-- Her heart full of pleasure, her blue eyes dilating; And what will she say? Ah, now she is blushing. There he stands on the pier! How the people are crushing! While out from the dock the churned waters are rushing. But the song of the wheels is, “I love him--I love him!” Then the pilot above Signals “Clang! Ting-a-ling!” And the slowing wheels sing, “Oh, my love--love--love!” Clang!