Oldal 12 [12]
OCR
Imperious Prima flashes forth Her edict “to begin it ”— In gentler tone Secunda hopes “There will be nonsense in it ! “— While Tertia interrupts the tale Not more than once a minute. Anon, to sudden silence won, In fancy they pursue The dream-child moving through a land Of wonders wild and nev, In friendly chat with bird or beast— And half believe it true. And ever, as the story drained The wells of fancy dry, And faintly strove that weary one To put the subject by, “The rest next time—”’ “It zs next time!” The happy voices cry.
