Playing a pipe with silvery squeaks,Since then his Jumbly Girl he seeks;And because by night he could not see,He gathered the bark of the Twangum TreeOn the flowery plain that grows.And he wove him a wondrous Nose,—A Nose as strange as a Nose could be! Of vast proportions and painted red,
And tied with cords to the back of his head.
—In a hollow rounded space it endedWith a luminous Lamp within suspended,All fenced aboutWith a bandage stoutTo prevent the wind from blowing it out;And with holes all round to send the lightIn gleaming rays on the dismal night

And now each night, and all night long,
Over those plains still roams the Dong;
And above the wail of the Chimp and Snipe
You may hear the squeak of his plaintive pipe,
While ever he seeks, but seeks in vain,
To meet with his Jumbly Girl again;
Lonely and wild, all night he goes,—
The Dong with a luminous Nose!
And all who watch at the midnight hour,
From Hall or Terrace or lofty Tower,
Cry, as they trace the Meteor bright,
Moving along through the dreary night,—
"This is the hour when forth he goes,