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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117124" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Canto VII — Sad Souvenaunce</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What's this?" I pondered. "Have I slept?<br>Or can I have been drinking?"<br>But soon a gentler feeling crept<br>Upon me, and I sat and wept<br>An hour or so, like winking.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"No need for Bones to hurry so!"<br>I sobbed. "In fact, I doubt<br>If it was worth his while to go —<br>And who is Tibbs, I'd like to know,<br>To make such work about?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"If Tibbs is anything like me,<br>It's possible," I said,<br>"He won't be over-pleased to be<br>Dropped in upon at half-past three,<br>After he's snug in bed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"And if Bones plagues him anyhow —<br>Squeaking and all the rest of it,<br>As he was doing here just now —<br>I prophesy there'll be a row,<br>And Tibbs will have the best of it!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, as my tears could never bring<br>The friendly Phantom back,<br>It seemed to me the proper thing<br>To mix another glass, and sing<br>The following Coronach.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And art thou gone, beloved Ghost?<br>Best of familiars!<br>Nay then, farewell, my duckling roast,<br>Farewell, farewell, my tea and toast,<br>My meerschaum and cigars!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hues of life are dull and gray,<br>The sweets of life insipid,<br>When thou, my charmer, art away —<br>Old Brick, or rather, let me say,<br>Old Parallelepiped!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Instead of singing Verse the Third,<br>I ceased — abruptly, rather:<br>But, after such a splendid word<br>I felt that it would be absurd<br>To try it any farther.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So with a yawn I went my way<br>To seek the welcome downy,<br>And slept, and dreamed till break of day<br>Of Poltergeist and Fetch and Fay<br>And Leprechaun and Brownie!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For year I've not been visited<br>By any kind of Sprite;<br>Yet still they echo in my head,<br>Those parting words, so kindly said,<br>"Old Turnip-top, good-night!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lewis+Carroll">Lewis Carroll</a> from <i>Phantasmagoria</i><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117124" data-title="Canto VII — Sad Souvenaunce de Lewis Carroll" data-description="What's this?" I pondered. "Have I slept?/Or can I have been drinking?"/But soon a gentler feeling crept/Upon me, and I sat and wept/An hour or so, like winking./"No need for Bones to hurry so!"/I sobbed. "In fact, I doubt/If it was worth his while..."></div>
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