"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
"Oh, Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?"
But answer came there none—
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.
BETH GELERT
By WILLIAM E. SPENCER
The spearmen heard the bugle sound,
And cheerily smiled the morn;
And many a brach, and many a hound,
Obeyed Llewelyn's horn.
And still he blew a louder blast,
And gave a lustier cheer,
"Come, Gelert, come, wert never last
Llewelyn's horn to hear.
"O, where does faithful Gelert roam,
The flower of all his race;
So true, so brave,—a lamb at home,
A lion in the chase?"
In sooth, he was a peerless hound,
The gift of royal John;
But now no Gelert could be found
And all the chase rode on.
That day Llewelyn little loved
The chase of hart and hare;
And scant and small the booty proved,
For Gelert was not there.
Unpleased, Llewelyn homeward hied,
When, near the portal seat,
His truant Gelert he espied,
Bounding his lord to greet.