In its home on the distant wold,
For the sap of the Lambert tree is soap,
And its beautiful fruit is gold.
So sing no song of the futile fir—
No song of the tranquil teak,
Nor the chestnut tree, with its bristling burr,
Or the paw-paw of Posey creek;
But fill my soul with a heavenly calm,
And bring sweet dreams to me
By singing a psalm of the itching palm