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W S Gilbert, “Disillusioned”, Bab Ballads
The novelist, whose painting pen To legions of fictitious men A real existence lends, Brain-people whom we rarely fail, Whene’er we hear their names, to hail As old and welcome friends;
The novelist, whose painting pen To legions of fictitious men A real existence lends, Brain-people whom we rarely fail, Whene’er we hear their names, to hail As old and welcome friends;