JOKES OF THE NIGHT

Blessed jokes of my dreams! Your praises I’d sing.

No mirth can compare to the mirth that you bring.

I’ve read London Punch from beginning to end,

On all comic papers much money I spend,

But naught that is in them can ever seem bright

Beside the rich jokes that I dream of at night.

How I laugh at those jests of my brain when at rest,

The gladdest and merriest, sweetest and best!

And how, when I wake in the morning and try