W. H. Auden
Driver drive faster and make a good run
Down the Springfield Line under the shining sun

Fly like an aeroplane, don’t pull up short
Till you brake for Grand Central Station, New York

For there in the middle of the waiting-hall
Should be standing the one that I love best of all

If he’s not there to meet me when I get to town
I’ll stand on the side-walk with tears rolling down

For he is the one that I love to look on
The acme of kindness and perfection

He presses my hand and he says he loves me
Which I find an admirable peculiarity

The woods are bright green on both sides of the line
The trees have their loves though they’re different from mine

But the poor fat old banker in the sun-parlour car
Has no one to love him except his cigar

If I were the Head of the Church or the State
I’d powder my nose and just tell them to wait
For love’s more important and powerful than
Even a priest or a politician