VI. · Section 2

VI.

And the Quangle Wangle said To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, "When all these creatures move What a wonderful noise there'll be!" And at night by the light of the Mulberry moon They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon, On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree, And all were as happy as happy could be, With the Quangle Wangle Quee.

THE CUMMERBUND. An Indian Poem.

I.

She sate upon her Dobie, To watch the Evening Star, And all the Punkahs, as they passed, Cried, "My! how fair you are!" Around her bower, with quivering leaves, The tall Kamsamahs grew, And Kitmutgars in wild festoons Hung down from Tchokis blue.

II.

Below her home the river rolled With soft meloobious sound, Where golden-finned Chuprassies swam, In myriads circling round. Above, on tallest trees remote Green Ayahs perched alone, And all night long the Mussak moan'd Its melancholy tone.