I awoke at one in the morning,
I had been two hours in bed,
When--bang!--without any warning
A joke came into my head.
'Twas brilliant, awfully funny,
It flashed through my drowsy brain,
It was worth--oh, a lot of money!--
I chuckled again and again.
I thought how I might employ it,
I laughed till the tears rolled down,
Foreseeing how SMITH would enjoy it,
And how it would tickle BROWN.
I said, "I had best but hint it
To _them_, or they might purloin
This wonderful jest, then print it,
And between them divide the coin."
Late in the morn I awoke,--I
Puzzled with all my might
In vain to recall the joke I
Made in the silent night.
What _was_ it about? No dreamer
Am I! No--I think--I frown--
When next I make a screamer
In bed--_I will write it down_.
By the side of the bed a taper
Shall ever with matches be,
A pencil and piece of paper,
To note what occurs to me.
* * * * *
Since then I have tried, but the late joke,
As seen in my bedside scrawl,
Is always so poor,--that the great joke,
_I'm sure, was no joke at all!_
* * * * *