The Jilted Engine Driver

Recited by John Dengate.

It has been found that Engine drivers grow to fond of their engines. A railway official said that too much affection on the part of a Driver towards his engine is a menace to efficiency.

Love of my life, when we were young,
How swift we ran together;
How strong our rolling song was sung
In spite of wind and weather;
When you were only one my sweet,
And I was one and thirty-
When I was spry upon my feet,
And you were not so dirty.

When first I saw your running gear
I knew that we were mated;
Although I found your haul, my dear,
Was somewhat overstated-
But oh! your buffer beam was grand,
And how the jumbucks scattered.
When we went roaming through the land
Where nothing really mattered.

False Fair;
What tons of oily waste
Are lavished on you only,
Yet now to other love in haste
You go and leave me lonely;
But go, forget your truest love-
Be happier with the oiler,
I'm sixty-nine and bald above,
I hope he busts your boiler.

I hope he starves you till you squeal,
And clean forgets what grease is,
I hope he cracks your driving wheel,
And strews you round in pieces.
Adieu, I blast you from my heart;
Begone, you hag, and rattle
For evermore a billy cart
Of tortured sheep and cattle.


A poem by H.C. (Inverell), with apologies to the Author.
Printed in the "The Locomotive Journal", Sydney, 25 September, 1930

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