The daylight was fading, and shadowy gloom
Was creeping and crawling all over the room,
When out of the fire, like a star in the dark,
There leapt to the fender a bright little spark.
“Ha, ha, little children!” it chuckled with glee,
“I’ve something to tell you, so listen to me!
This morning, Tom Dull, whom I never admire,
Was sitting in front of this very same fire;
And, as it burned dimly, was heard to remark:
‘Oh, Mary! There’s nothing in here but a spark!’