She whispers in the "Beauty's" ear.
THE AWAKENING.
A touch, a kiss! the charm was snapt.
There came a noise of striking clocks.
Twelve strokes! Aroused from slumber rapt,
The "Beauty" shook his silvery locks.
"What you again? My yearly call!
By Jove, how soundly I have slept!"
Then, with a laugh that shook the wall,
Unto his feet Old Christmas leapt.