 | The single hound : poems of a lifetime |  |
14
[XII. No romance sold unto]
No romance sold unto,Could so enthrall a man
As the perusal of
His individual one.
'Tis fiction's, to dilute
To plausibility
Our novel, when 'tis small enough
To credit,—'tis n't true!
| The single hound : poems of a lifetime | |