EPILOGUE.

EPILOGUE.

There,—having sung in dulcet tonesOf Brown, and Robinson, and Jones,Of poets, cannibals, and kings,Of burglars, dukes, and such like things—May kindly Fate our fortunes mend.We wish you joy. This is

There,—having sung in dulcet tonesOf Brown, and Robinson, and Jones,Of poets, cannibals, and kings,Of burglars, dukes, and such like things—May kindly Fate our fortunes mend.We wish you joy. This is

There,—having sung in dulcet tonesOf Brown, and Robinson, and Jones,Of poets, cannibals, and kings,Of burglars, dukes, and such like things—May kindly Fate our fortunes mend.We wish you joy. This is

There,—having sung in dulcet tones

Of Brown, and Robinson, and Jones,

Of poets, cannibals, and kings,

Of burglars, dukes, and such like things—

May kindly Fate our fortunes mend.

We wish you joy. This is

THE END

THE END

THE END

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