Sleepy little gentians, it is time to rise
For the sun is climbing fast up the golden skies,
And the happy brooklets are laughing where they leap
Don't you hear them in your dreams as you lie asleep?

Lift those fair fringed lashes up, shut so very tight,
Hiding from your sweet blue eyes all the rosy light;
What can you be dreaming that you slumber so,
Sleepy little gentians, I should like to know!

                -- Gertrude Alger
                   (In Belford's Annual, 1888-9
                   (Chicago: Belford Clarke & Co., 1888) p. 109)