From the lips of a tall Hollyhock.
The Pheasant’s eye, always a mischievous wight,
For prying out something not good,
Avow’d that he peep’d through the keyhole that night;
And clearly discern’d, by a glow-worm’s pale light,
Their Two-faces-under-a-hood.
Old Dowager Peony, deaf as a door,
Who wish’d to know more of the facts,
Invited Dame Mustard and Miss Hellebore,
With Miss Periwinkle, and many friends more,