Verses done in bed by M. Babington Bayley (1894)



In my bed I lie,
Gazing at the sky
Through my window-pane and curtain,
Feeling comfortably certain
Luncheon hour is nigh.

None the less I lie.

Oh, the joy of bed!
Who was it who said ‘Tis immortal to be lazy?
Sure, he must have been a crazy,
Witless dunderhead.
Thank the Lord he’s dead!

Sweet it is to take
Pleasant rest, and break
Through a silly, stale convention.
Sweeter still, I needn’t mention,
‘Tis to lie and make
Verses, half away.

Why not rise and dress?
Well, I must confess
That’s a question that perturbs me;
But my sluggish nature curbs me
From all activities.
Oh, confound the dress!

That’s the point of view
Bed has bought me to.
Here I’d like to lie forever
Still, I’ll make a strong endeavour-
Lord! It’s striking two!
Where’s my blooming shoe?

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