Out of it steps the future of the poor,

Enigmas, executioners and rules,

Her Majesty in a bad temper or

The red-nosed Fool who makes a fool of fools.

Great person eye it in the twilight for

A past it might so carelessly let in,

A widow with a missionary grin,

The foaming inundation at a roar.

We pile our all against it when afraid,

And beat upon its panels when we die:

By happening to be open once, it made

Enormous Alice see a wonderland

That waited for her in sunshine, and,

Simply by being tiny, made her cry.