Imagination
5
I’m sure you like to go there To see your feathered friend,— And so many goodies grow there You would like to comprehend! Speed, little dreams, your winging To that land across the sea Where the Dinkey-Bird is singing In the amfalula tree!
The Phrisky Phrog
Laura E. Richards
Now list, oh! list to the piteous tale Of the Phrisky Phrog and the Sylvan Snayle; Of their lives and their loves, their joys and their woes, And all about them that any one knows. The Phrog lived down in a grewsome bog, The Snayle in a hole in the end of a log; And they loved each other so fond and true, They didn't know what in the world to do. For the Snayle declared 'twas too cold and damp For a lady to live in a grewsome swamp; While her lover replied, that a hole in a log Was no possible place for a Phrisky Phrog. “Come down! come down, my beautiful Snayle! With your helegant horns and your tremulous tail; Come down to my bower in the blossomy bog, And be happy with me,” said the Phrisky Phrog. “Come up, come up, to my home so sweet, Where there's plenty to drink, and the same to eat; Come up where the cabbages bloom in the vale, And be happy with me,” said the Sylvan Snayle. But he wouldn't come, and she wouldn't go, And so they could never be married, you know; Though they loved each other so fond and true, They didn't know what in the world to do.