But gim me the light of our lunary star
When dew turns ter di’monds in Frost’s jubileum;
When the ’simmons is ripe, an’ not a leaf stirs,
An’ the fiel’s is jes’ drownded in silvery blurs!
We was strollin’ ’long “Four Mile” when suddenly Jess
With a sharp, quick yelp shot off threw the bresh.
Jehosaphat, pard, I gotta confess
How a houn’ dawg’s tonguin’ will quicken the flesh!
For over a hour me ’n Bill snook along,
An’ never got tired o’ foll’rin’ thet song.