SISTER. br I am to write three lines, and you br Three others that will rhyme. br There-now I've done my task. br br br BROTHER. br Three stupid lines as e'er I knew. br When you've the pen next time, br Some question of me ask. br br SISTER. br Then tell me, brother, and pray mind, br Brother, you tell me true: br What sort of thing is fancy? br br br BROTHER. br By all that I can ever find, br 'Tis something that is very new, br And what no dunces can see. br br br SISTER. br That is not half the way to tell br What fancy is about; br So pray now tell me more. br br BROTHER. br Sister, I think 'twere quite as well br That you should find it out; br So think the matter o'er. br br SISTER. br It's what comes in our heads when we br Play at 'Let's-make-believe,' br And when we play at 'Guessing.' br br br BROTHER. br And I have heard it said to be br A talent often makes us grieve, br And sometimes proves a blessing.