The Most Beloved Children's Books - Lewis Carroll Edition. Льюис Кэрролл

      All in the golden afternoon

       Full leisurely we glide;

       For both our oars, with little skill,

       By little arms are plied

       While little hands make vain pretence

       Our wanderings to guide.

      Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour

       Beneath such dreamy weather,

       To beg a tale of breath too weak

       To stir the tiniest feather!

       Yet what can one poor voice avail

       Against three tongues together?

      Imperious Prima flashes forth

       Her edict to ‘begin it’:

       In gentler tone Secunda hopes

       ‘There will be nonsense in it’

       While Tertia interrupts the tale

       Not more than once a minute.

      Anon, to sudden silence won,

       In fancy they pursue

       The dream-child moving through a land

       Of wonders wild and new,

       In friendly chat with bird or beast—

       And half believe it true.

      And ever, as the story drained

       The wells of fancy dry,

       And faintly strove that weary one

       To put the subject by,

       ‘The rest next time’—‘It is next time!’ The happy voices cry.

      Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:

       Thus slowly, one by one,

       Its quaint 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 pilgrim’s

Скачать книгу