160
PICTURES IN THE FIRE.
PICTURES IN THE FIRE.
AT is it you ask me, darling? All my stories, child, you know;I have no strange dreams to tell you, Pictures I have none to show.Tell you glorious scenes of travel? Nay, my child, that cannot be,I have seen no foreign countries, Marvels none on land or sea.
Yet strange sights in truth I witness, And I gaze until I tire;Wondrous pictures, changing ever, As I look into the fire.
There, last night, I saw a cavern, Black as pitch; within it lay,Coiled in many folds, a dragon, Glaring as if turned at bay.
And a knight in dismal armor On a winged eagle came,To do battle with this dragon; And his crest was all of flame.
As I gazed the dragon faded, And, instead, sat Pluto crownedBy a lake of burning fire; Spirits dark were crouching round.
