| 7.5°C Dublin


It's ten more minutes in bed

With a yawn and a yawn and a yaw,

Yes, ten more minutes in bed,

When the sunlight's bright and braw;

To swoon like a weeping willow

With a ho and a hum and a ho,

Once more across my pillow,

And to roll from to to fro;

To thwart the meddlesome rising bell

With a blanket o'er my head;To yawn at the dawn and carry on

For ten more minutes in bed

Oh sleep at eve is a blessed thing,

And sleep at night is blesseder,

And poets leap to write of sleep,

Death's brother and ambassador.

I welcome sleep at any hour,

I have, since I was born;

But the sleep I love all sleep above

Is a little more sleep at morn