THE SAD YEARS
THE HOUSE OF CARDS
O the chatter, chatter, chatter,
Of the things that do not matter.
Little wordy things that clatter,
Restless feet that pitter patter,
All my pretty houses scatter,
All my noble castles scatter.
See I build it tower by tower,
Kingly hall and queenly bower,
Into skies celestial throwing,
Spire and turret upward growing,
Prisoned sunshine for its lighting,
Rainbow beams its roof uniting.
Kings and queens and noble people
Look from turret, peep from steeple,
With a handsome knave or two
All the fairy ways pursue.
But the clatter, clatter, clatter,
Of the things that do not matter,
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