Rhyme? and reason? . When it was over, for a whim, He ran to tell the King ;And being the reverse of slim, BYCKEKMENT. A^l A two-mile trot was not for himA very easy thing. So, to reward him for his run (As it was baking hot,And he was over twenty stone).The King proceeded, half in fun, To knight him on the spot. Twas a great Hberty to take ! (I fired up like a rocket).He did it just for punnings sake:The man, says Johnson, that would make A pun, would pick a pocket! A man, said he, is not a King. I argued for a while,And did my best to prove the thing—The Phantom merely listening With a conte
Rhyme? and reason? . When it was over, for a whim, He ran to tell the King ;And being the reverse of slim, BYCKEKMENT. A^l A two-mile trot was not for himA very easy thing. So, to reward him for his run (As it was baking hot,And he was over twenty stone).The King proceeded, half in fun, To knight him on the spot. Twas a great Hberty to take ! (I fired up like a rocket).He did it just for punnings sake:The man, says Johnson, that would make A pun, would pick a pocket! A man, said he, is not a King. I argued for a while,And did my best to prove the thing—The Phantom merely listening With a contemptuous smile. At last, when, breath and patience spent, I had recourse to smoking— Your aim, he said, is excellent: G 42 PHANTASM A GORIA. But—when you call it argiunejit—Of course youre only joking?. Stung by his cold and snaky eye, I roused myself at lengthTo say At least I do defyThe veriest sceptic to denyThat union is strength ! BYCKERMENT. Thats true enough, said he, yet stay— I listened in all meekness— Union is strength, I m bound to say;In fact, the thing s as clear as day ; But onions—are a weakness. 43 CANTO VI. As one who strives a hill to climb, Who never climbed before:Who finds it, in a little time,Grow every moment less sublime, And votes the thing a bore: Vet, having once begun to try, Dares not desert his quest,But, climbing, ever keeps his eyeOn one small hut against the sky, » Wherein he hopes to rest: Who climbs till nerve and force are spent,With many a puff and pant ; Who still, as rises the ascent. In language grows more violent. Although in breath more scant: DYSCOMFYTVRE. 45 Who, climbing, gains at length the placeThat crowns the upward track ; And, entering with unsteady pace, Receives a buffet in the face That lands him on his back :
Size: 1432px × 1746px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthorcarrolll, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1901
