 | Brother Fabian's Manuscript |  |
Ulysses? Ay, whate'er all capitals,
Street, market, minster, palace and hall and cot
Could tell or teach of manners and of men,
Their loves, hates, toils, sports, fasts, and festivals,
Thou in the lidless treasury of thy soul
Didst prodigally hoard, and from thy store
Scattering thy wealth, didst ever garner more!
Street, market, minster, palace and hall and cot
Could tell or teach of manners and of men,
258
Thou in the lidless treasury of thy soul
Didst prodigally hoard, and from thy store
Scattering thy wealth, didst ever garner more!
| Brother Fabian's Manuscript | |