Page:Carroll - Phantasmagoria and other poems (1869).djvu/117

Rh  "Not so," he urged, "nor once alone: But there was that within her tone Which chilled me to the very bone.

"Her style was anything but clear, And most unpleasantly severe; Her epithets were very queer.

"And yet, so grand were her replies, I could not choose but deem her wise; I did not dare to criticise;

"Nor did I leave her, till she went So deep in tangled argument That all my powers of thought were spent."

A little whisper inly slid; "Yet truth is truth: you know you did—" A little wink beneath the lid.