The
skeeter upon the headboard sits,
And
picks his teeth and sharps his wits;
Eyeing
his victim disenrobe,
Nervously
waiting his flesh to probe.
The
lamp goes out, the prayer is said,
The
victim wearily crawls to bed;
While
skeeter above unfolds his wings,
And
hovering over his prey he sings:
“Bizz – bizz – bizzerty bizz;
Now for a draught upon your phiz;
Sleep, O, sleep, peacefully sleep;
I your vigil will nightly keep.
Bizz – bizz – bizzerty bizz,
Beautiful, tender, juicy young phiz.
The
skeeter alights, no sound is heard,
His
deep sword thrust if not deferred;
Deeper
and deeper the weapon goes,
Till
pure and freely the liquid flows.
Nervous
and worried the sleeper sighs,
Before
his vision dance large mince pies;
Then
out of a fierce nightmare he springs,
While
skeeter departs, and softly sings:
“Bizz
– bizz – bizzerty bizz;
O, what a relishing, juicy phiz.
Sleep, O, sleep, peacefully sleep,
Twenty four hours
away I’ll keep.
Bizz –
bizz – bizzerty bizz,
Innocent, tender, juicy young phiz.
Oct.
9, ‘93
Accepted
by “Truth”
Pub.
Oct. 13, 1894
#391
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