Classic Poem

A bed of moss we'll straight prepare,
Where, near him gently creeping,
We'll pat his cheeks, and stroke his hair,
And watch him while he's sleeping.

II.

Sweet flowers of every scent and hue,
Pinks, violets, and roses,
And blooming hyacinths we'll strew,
As sweetly he reposes.

III.

And we'll with fond emotion start,
And while, with admiration,
We softly feel his fluttering heart,
Partake its palpitation.