Little Hawk, O Little Hawk! Your lonely sleep is done!
Winona's knocking at your door, the prize you sought is won!
The bed is near, the belle is here, you should be out rejoicing
And follow eyes the beauteous keel that looks so trim and daring!

But O snore! Snore! Snore!         
      O sleeping, droopy head!        
       For on the bed the L'il Hawk lies,        
          Sleeping like he's dead.


                  -- Ulrich Guttermouth, Songs From Mommy's Knee
                     (Bedford-Stuyvesant Press, 1783).