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Of the blue bay; on a gold chain,
The cat, learned in the fable stories,
Walks round the tree in ceaseless strain:
Moves to the right – a song it groans,
Moves to the left – it tells a tale.
There’re marvels there: the wood-spite roams,
Midst branches shines the mermaids’ tail;
There are the strangest creatures’ traces
On the mysterious paths and moors;
There stands a hut on hen’s legs, hairless,
Without windows and doors;
There visions fill a vale and forest;
There, at a dawn, come waves, the coldest,
On the deserted sandy shore,
And thirty knights, in armors shone,
Come out the clear waves in a colon,
And their sea-tutor – them before;
There a brave prince, in a fight, shortest,
Makes to surrender a king, dread;