Montes umbrantur, out flounce mountains. Pah!

Excuse me, sir, I think I'm going mad.

You see the trick on't though, and can yourself

Continue the discourse ad libitum.

It takes up about eighty thousand lines,

A thing imagination boggles at;

And might, odds-bobs, sir! in judicious hands,

Extend from here to Mesopotamy.

LOVERS, AND A REFLECTION.

(JEAN INGELOW)