 | Pot-Pourri |  |
POETIC FRAGMENTS
PART OF AN UNFINISHED GHOUL-POEM—
Said we then—the two, then—Ah! can itHave been that the woodlandish Ghouls—
The pitiful, the merciful Ghouls—
To bar up our way and to ban it
From the secret that lies in these wolds—
From the thing that lies hidden in these wolds—
Have drawn up the spectre of a planet
From the limbo of lunary souls—
This sinfully scintillant planet
From the hell of the planetary souls?
POT-POURRI—
“A rosemary odour“Commingled with pansies—
“With rue”:—
Your poet has fancies:
But methinks such an odour
Were odious to more than a few.
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