Faintheart in a Railway Train

AT nine in the morning there passed a church,At ten there passed me by the sea,At twelve a town of smoke and smirch,At two a forest of oak and birch,And then, on a platform, she:

A radiant stranger, who saw not me.I queried, “Get out to her do I dare?"But I kept my seat in my search for a plea,And the wheels moved on. O could it but beThat I had alighted there!