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
It’s possible that, as Freud is reputed to have said, “sometimes a cigar is just a cigar,” but given the romantic context of the poem it seems likely this is a bit of a sexual joke. 
 
 It’s also the beginning of a serious social commentary. Like the politicians and religious leaders of the final stanzas, Auden argues that the “fat banker” has lost his sense of the fundamental human priority of love.
Calypso