Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/35

Rh Suns and moons with me, As I’m homeward straying, All in sympathy Swaying, swaying, swaying.

Lord! I’ve got a head. Well, it’s not surprising. I must gain my bed Ere the sun be rising; When the merry lark In the sky is soaring, I’ll refuse to hark, I’ll be snoring, snoring.

Strike a sulphur match… Ha! at last my garret. Fumble at the latch, Close the door and bar it. Bed, you graciously Wait, despite my scorning… So, bibaciously Mad old world, good morning.

, April.

Heigh ho! to sleep I vainly try; Since twelve I haven’t closed an eye,