A Casket Song

Tell me, where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourished? III, ii
Reply, reply.

It is engend'red in the eyes,
With gazing fed; and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.
Let us all ring fancy's knell.
I'll begin it--Ding, dong, bell. III, ii

All: Ding, dong, bell.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.