Page:Carroll - Phantasmagoria and other poems (1869).djvu/65



"What's this?" I pondered. "Have I slept?
 * Or can I have been drinking?"

But soon a gentler feeling crept Upon me, and I sat and wept
 * An hour or so, like winking.

Then, as my tears could never bring
 * My favourite phantom back,

It seemed to me the proper thing To mix another glass, and sing
 * The following Coronach.