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Hiawathas photographing ( Part II )
First the Governor, the Father:
He suggested velvet curtains
looped about a massy pillar;
And the corner of a table,
Of a rosewood dining-table.

He would hold a scroll of something,
Hold it firmly in his left-hand;
He would keep his right-hand buried
(Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat;
He would contemplate the distance
With a look of pensive meaning,
As of ducks that die in tempests.


Grand, heroic was the notion:
Yet the picture failed entirely:
Failed, because he moved a little,
Moved, because he couldn't help it.



Next, his better half took courage;
She would have her picture taken.

She came dressed beyond description,
Dressed in jewels and in satin
Far too gorgeous for an empress.

Gracefully she sat down sideways,
With a simper scarcely human,
Holding in her hand a bouquet
Rather larger than a cabbage.

All the while that she was sitting,
Still the lady chattered, chattered,
Like a monkey in the forest.

"Am I sitting still ?" she asked him.

"Is my face enough in profile?
Shall I hold the bouquet higher?
Will it come into the picture?"
And the picture failed completely.
Written by: Lewis Carroll

Book: Shattered Sighs