Curious reds, and golds, and greens Danced before our startled eyes, Birds from painted Indian screens, Beads, and shells, and dragon-flies; Wings, and flowers, and scent, and flame, Fans and fish and heliotrope; Till the magic air became Like a dream kaleidoscope. Then he told us of a land Far across a fairy sea; And he waved his thin white hand Like a flower, melodiously; While a red and blue macaw Perched upon his pointed head, And as in a dream, we saw All the curious things he said. Tucked in tiny palanquins, Magically swinging there, Flowery-kirtled mandarins Floated through the scented air; Wandering dogs and prowling cats Grinned at fish in painted lakes; Cross-legged conjurers on mats Fluted low to listening snakes. Fat black bonzes on the shore Watched where singing, faint and far, Boys in long blue garments bore Roses in a golden jar. While at carven dragon ships Floating o’er that silent sea, Squat-limbed gods with dreadful lips Leered and smiled mysteriously. Like an idol, shrined alone, Watched by secret oval eyes, Where the ruby wishing-stone Smouldering in the darkness lies, Anyone that wanted things Touched the jewel and they came: We were wealthier than kings If we could but do the same. Yes; we knew a hundred ways We might use it if we could; To be happy all our days As an Indian in a wood; No more daily lesson task, No more sorrow, no more care; So we thought that we would ask If he’d kindly lead us there. Ah! but then he waved his fan, And he vanished through the wall; Yet as in a dream, we ran Tumbling after, one and all; Never pausing once to think, Panting after him we sped; For we saw his robe of pink Floating backward as he fled. Down a secret passage deep, Under roofs of spidery stairs, Where the bat-winged nightmares creep, And a sheeted phantom glares Rushed we; ah! how strange it was Where no human watcher stood; Till we reached a gate of glass Opening on a flowery wood. Where the rose-pink robe had flown, Borne by swifter feet than ours, On to Wonder-Wander town, Through the wood of monstrous flowers; Mailed in monstrous gold and blue Dragon-flies like peacocks fled; Butterflies like carpets, too, Softly fluttered overhead. Down the valley, tip-a-toe, Where the broad-limbed giants lie Snoring, as when long ago Jack on a bean-stalk scaled the sky; Slowly, softly towards the town Stole we past old dreams again, Castles long since battered down, Dungeons of forgotten pain.