My Fancy
Автор книги Lewis Carroll
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I painted her a gushing thing,
With years about a score;
I little thought to find they were.
A least a dozen more;
My fancy gave her eyes of blue,
A curly auburn head:
I came to find the blue a green,
The auburn turned to red.
She boxed my ears this morning,
They tingled very much;
I own that I could wish her.
A somewhat lighter touch;
And if you ask me how.
Her charms might be improved,
I would not have them added to,
But just a few removed!
She has the bear's ethereal grace,
The bland hyaena's laugh,
The footstep of the elephant,
The neck of a giraffe;
I love her still, believe me,
Though my heart its passion hides;
She's all my fancy painted her,
But oh!
how much besides!