Golden Chain

On the curved sea-shore in Fancy-land there is an evergreen oak; on the oak is hung up a golden chain: all day and night the versed tomcat keeps stalking on the chain around; when he goes to the right he begins to sing a song, when he goes to the left he proceeds to tell a tale.
There are so many various miracles: there a wood-goblin wanders and a siren on the branches sits; on the unknown paths there are the traces of unprecedented beasts; the cabin without doors and windows there lies on piles; there hill and dale are full of ghosts; there waves gush over the sandy deserted coast and then thirty fair hansom rogues with their marine drill-master in single file leave clear water; there a young prince takes off-hand the terrible king prisoner; there in the clouds in the face of people the sorcerer bears away the warrior-champion over forests and seas; there in the dark dungeon a beautiful princess bitterly grieves and the brown wolf faithfully serves her; there the mortar of wood with the old witch moves by itself; there the covetous king fretting over heaps of gold fades, falls away and shrivels; there is the free spirit there... it there smells with freedom.