Lift the latch of your h'gant thatch,
Your pleasant room, attic! or what a rheumatic
And cold I shall catch!
And then, Miss Clark, between you and your spark
'Twill be never a match!
I've been singing and ringing, and rapping and tapping,
And coughing and sneezing, and wheezing and freezing,
While you have been napping,
Miss Clark, by the Clock of St. Mark,
Twenty minutes and more!