A Day In Bed

O what is so rare as a day in bed,

     A season of rest complete;

A day of delight from noon until night,

     With plenty of good things to eat.

For scientists say, and we must believe,

     If we want a wise, clear-thinking head,

And a body that’s tough, of the right kind of stuff,

     We must give it a day off in bed.

Imagine the yawning and stretching and all

     Of the joys such loafing would bring;

Imagine the bliss of a day spent like this,

     While the world was atoil and aswing.

Imagine the envy of all fellow men

     Who knew you were bunked for the day;

Why, the malice you’d spread by your day off in bed

     Would more than atone for lost pay.

O nothing’s so rare as a day in bed,

     Not even a day in June;

And blest be the man who invented the plan,

     Who deserves a far loftier rune.

I beg you to try it and see for yourself,

     (Tho’ I haven’t myself it is true)

For there’s nothing, I say, so rare as a day

     In bed, unless it is two.

Aug. 12, 1900