O Bed! O Bed! Delicious Bed! That

With Fingers Weary And Worn, With Eyelids Heavy And Red, A Woman Sat In Unwomanly Rags, Plying Her Needle And Thread.

A Man That's Fond Precociously Of Stirring , :;:; Must Be A Spoon.

Dear Bells! How Sweet The Sound Of Village Bells When On The Undulating Air They Swim!

Whilst Breezy Waves Toss Up Their Silvery Spray.

He Lies Like A Hedgehog Rolled Up The Wrong Way, Tormenting Himself With His Prickles.