near gardens tall and winding,
whilst i savoured aphotic tea.


appeared that harrowing boy,
stygian herald bringing destiny.


inside, aside! i cried, i cried,
but none there heard my call.


my path was laid out, though four-fold
it was, before i fell the fall


then awakened from my forty-winks,
to a realm so alien and queer.


and O! the p-pain of my forearm,
known only by my good man Lear.


understand, under i stood!
beneath the sky of a shadow land.


brobdingnag could not compare,
nor calormen in the sand.


time and a time and a time again,
i periled through this epic place.


met mighty men and kings of old,
and stuck leviathan in 'er face!


o weary soul, tired tired tis true.
yet to the end did i hold fast.


til i'd learn't that humble shall be first,
and the first shall inded be last.