Just A Wee Cot-the Crickets Chirr-love And

The Ripest Peach Is Highest On The Tree

And The Sun Had On A Crown Wrought Of Gilded Thistledown, And A Scarf Of Velvet Vapor And A Raveled Rainbow Gown; And His Tinsel-tangled Hair Tossed And Lost Upon The Air Was Glossier And Flossier Than Any Anywhere.

One Naked Star Has Waded Through The Purple Shallows Of The Night, And Faltering As Falls The Dew It Drips Its Misty Light.

Just A Wee Cot-the Crickets Chirr-love And The Smiling Face Of Her.

I Don't Know How To Tell It--but Ef Such A Thing Could Be As The Angels Wantin' Boardin', And They'd Call Around On Me-- I'd Want To 'ccommodate 'em--all The Whole-in-durin' Flock-- When The Frost Is On The Punkin And The Fodder's In The Shock.