With a crown like sun-dried moss
In the woods where I once wandered.”
But I cannot afford to be kind,
Or strange, or mad, or merry.
She will give me purse-worn bills
For the little dream hat, the fairy-sewn hat,
And I shall say with formality:
“Thank you, madam; I am glad
You are pleased with the little hat.”
Stale, stale, flat, flat!