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- The parrot's voice snaps out--
- No good to contradict--
- What he says he'll say again:
- Dry facts, like biscuits,--
- His voice and vivid colours
- Of his breast and wings
- Are immemoriably old;
- Old dowagers dressed in crimpèd satin
- Boxed in their rooms
- Like specimens beneath a glass
- Inviolate--and never changing,
- Their memory of emotions dead;
- The ardour of their summers
- Sprayed like camphor
- On their silken parasols
- Entissued in a cupboard.
- Reflective, but with never a new thought
- The parrot sways upon his ivory perch--
- Then gravely turns a somersault
- Through rings nailed in the roof--
- Much as the sun performs his antics
- As he climbs the aerial bridge
- We only see
- Through crystal prisms in a falling rain.
- Sacheverell Sitwell [ref 124]
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