Now, such were the folks of that wonder-land,
A curious people, as you will own;
But are there none of the race abroad,
Are no specimens elsewhere known?
Well, I think that he whose views of life
Are crooked, wrong, perverse, and odd,
Who looks upon all with jaundiced eyes—
Sees himself and believes it God,
Who sneers at the good, and makes the ill,
Curses a world he cannot mend;
Who measures life by the rule of wrong
And abuses its aim and end,
The man who stays when he ought to move,
And only goes when he ought to stop—
Is strangely like the folk in my dream,
And would flourish in Turvey Top.
Anonymous.
WHAT THE PRINCE OF I DREAMT
I dreamt it! such a funny thing—
And now it's taken wing;
I s'pose no man before or since
Dreamt such a funny thing?
It had a Dragon; with a tail;
A tail both long and slim,
And ev'ry day he wagg'd at it—
How good it was of him!
And so to him the tailest
Of all three-tailed Bashaws,
Suggested that for reasons
The waggling should pause;
And held his tail—which, parting,
Reversed that Bashaw, which
Reversed that Dragon, who reversed
Himself into a ditch.