. King Time; or The mystical land of the hours, a fantasy . When they likened his eyes to the heavens, And his rippling laugh to a brook,The Wollerp, concealed by some rock in his field, Would enter it in his book. 73 KING TIME He would listen in rapt consternation, And his curious intellect burnedTo such an extent that his neck was bent, And his head completely turned. When they spoke of him as an Apollo, In their fervent but innocent way,He would open his book with a fiendish look, And enter it under A. And each sigh, and each giggle and simper, And each sweet exhibition of guile,And each mo
. King Time; or The mystical land of the hours, a fantasy . When they likened his eyes to the heavens, And his rippling laugh to a brook,The Wollerp, concealed by some rock in his field, Would enter it in his book. 73 KING TIME He would listen in rapt consternation, And his curious intellect burnedTo such an extent that his neck was bent, And his head completely turned. When they spoke of him as an Apollo, In their fervent but innocent way,He would open his book with a fiendish look, And enter it under A. And each sigh, and each giggle and simper, And each sweet exhibition of guile,And each movement of grace had its regular place In his patented index file. But I cannot conceal the finale, Nor the lesson its certain to the beautiful neck of the Wollerperleck Extended beyond his reach. How it strayed far beyond the intentionsWhich Dame Nature had once entertained; How it first got askew; then rapidly grewFrom being incessantly 74 KING TIME How it wound as it slowly meandered; How its owner would constantly bendIts unlimited length with all of his strength, In search of his other end. How it entered the Minute Hand Forest,And explored every leaf bordered track; How he peered here and there, and with utter despair,Tried to follow its windings back. How it curled round the trees of the woodland, While its body in dreadful suspense,Would stroll out and wait by the ill-omened gate, Or sit on the fateful fence. At his beautiful home in the valley, In the vine covered cottage at Snooze,The Wollerp repined and endeavoured to find His beautiful russet shoes.
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Keywords: ., bookauthorfitzhughpercykeese187, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900
