Oldal 13 [13]
Thus slowly, one by one,
Íts guaint events were hammered out—¬
And now the tale is done,
And home we steer, a merry crew,
Beneath the setting sun.
Alice! a childish story take,
And with a gentle hand
Lay it where Childhood’s dreams are twined
In Memory’s mystic band, |
Like pilerim’s witherd wreath of flowers
Pluck’d in a far-off land.