Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will't please you rise? We'll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master's known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!

How much the word last in the title of this poem suggests! Note how
many, and how different, are the topics in the last dozen lines. Yet
there is no paragraphing throughout. The page should show things as
they exist in the Duke's mind, and he runs from one thought to another
as if they were all on the same plane, and closely related.

Was there ever a more vain, heartless, haughty, selfish, bartering
gentleman-wretch? Note how single short sentences even surprise one by
the extent to which they reveal character. Whole volumes are included
between sentences. One can scarcely read the poem through rapidly; for
it seems necessary to pause here and there to reflect upon and
interject statements.

There is no doubt about the need of extensive supplementing in the
case of adult literature. Is that true, however, of literature for
children? Is not this, on account of the immaturity of children,
necessarily so written as to make such supplementing unnecessary?
For a test let us examine Longfellow's The Children's Hour, which is