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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447665" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Phantasmagoria CANTO III ( Scarmoges )</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">"AND did you really walk," said I,<br>"On such a wretched night?<br>I always fancied Ghosts could fly -<br>If not exactly in the sky,<br>Yet at a fairish height." </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"It's very well," said he, "for Kings<br>To soar above the earth:<br>But Phantoms often find that wings -<br>Like many other pleasant things -<br>Cost more than they are worth. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Spectres of course are rich, and so<br>Can buy them from the Elves:<br>But WE prefer to keep below -<br>They're stupid company, you know,<br>For any but themselves: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"For, though they claim to be exempt<br>From pride, they treat a Phantom<br>As something quite beneath contempt -<br>Just as no Turkey ever dreamt<br>Of noticing a Bantam." </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"They seem too proud," said I, "to go<br>To houses such as mine.<br>Pray, how did they contrive to know<br>So quickly that 'the place was low,'<br>And that I 'kept bad wine'?" </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Inspector Kobold came to you - "<br>The little Ghost began.<br>Here I broke in - "Inspector who?<br>Inspecting Ghosts is something new!<br>Explain yourself, my man!" </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"His name is Kobold," said my guest:<br>"One of the Spectre order:<br>You'll very often see him dressed<br>In a yellow gown, a crimson vest,<br>And a night-cap with a border. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"He tried the Brocken business first,<br>But caught a sort of chill ;<br>So came to England to be nursed,<br>And here it took the form of THIRST,<br>Which he complains of still. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Port-wine, he says, when rich and sound,<br>Warms his old bones like nectar:<br>And as the inns, where it is found,<br>Are his especial hunting-ground,<br>We call him the INN-SPECTRE." </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I bore it - bore it like a man -<br>This agonizing witticism!<br>And nothing could be sweeter than<br>My temper, till the Ghost began<br>Some most provoking criticism. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Cooks need not be indulged in waste;<br>Yet still you'd better teach them<br>Dishes should have SOME SORT of taste.<br>Pray, why are all the cruets placed<br>Where nobody can reach them? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"That man of yours will never earn<br>His living as a waiter!<br>Is that queer THING supposed to burn?<br>(It's far too dismal a concern<br>To call a Moderator). </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"The duck was tender, but the peas<br>Were very much too old:<br>And just remember, if you please,<br>The NEXT time you have toasted cheese,<br>Don't let them send it cold. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"You'd find the bread improved, I think,<br>By getting better flour:<br>And have you anything to drink<br>That looks a LITTLE less like ink,<br>And isn't QUITE so sour?" </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, peering round with curious eyes,<br>He muttered "Goodness gracious!"<br>And so went on to criticise -<br>"Your room's an inconvenient size:<br>It's neither snug nor spacious. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"That narrow window, I expect,<br>Serves but to let the dusk in - "<br>"But please," said I, "to recollect<br>'Twas fashioned by an architect<br>Who pinned his faith on Ruskin!" </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I don't care who he was, Sir, or<br>On whom he pinned his faith!<br>Constructed by whatever law,<br>So poor a job I never saw,<br>As I'm a living Wraith! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"What a re-markable cigar!<br>How much are they a dozen?"<br>I growled "No matter what they are!<br>You're getting as familiar<br>As if you were my cousin! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Now that's a thing I WILL NOT STAND,<br>And so I tell you flat."<br>"Aha," said he, "we're getting grand!"<br>(Taking a bottle in his hand)<br>"I'll soon arrange for THAT!" </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And here he took a careful aim,<br>And gaily cried "Here goes!"<br>I tried to dodge it as it came,<br>But somehow caught it, all the same,<br>Exactly on my nose. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I remember nothing more<br>That I can clearly fix,<br>Till I was sitting on the floor,<br>Repeating "Two and five are four,<br>But FIVE AND TWO are six." </div><div style="margin:10px 0">What really passed I never learned,<br>Nor guessed: I only know<br>That, when at last my sense returned,<br>The lamp, neglected, dimly burned -<br>The fire was getting low - </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through driving mists I seemed to see<br>A Thing that smirked and smiled:<br>And found that he was giving me<br>A lesson in Biography,<br>As if I were a child.</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><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=447665" data-title="Phantasmagoria CANTO III ( Scarmoges ) de Lewis Carroll" data-description=""AND did you really walk," said I, "On such a wretched night? I always fancied Ghosts could fly - If not exactly in the sky, Yet at a fairish height." "It's very well," said he, "for Kings To soar above the ear..."></div> </div> </div>
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