Big feats are given, rich and rare,
Of which, I own, I have had my share,
But nothin’ ever tasted quite
So good, as on that star-lit night!
An’ when the sap was boilin’ there
Till we could taste it in the air,
We wood-land boys with hearts awhirl,
Each took a cupful to his girl,
An’ cuddled down with her an’ ate,
With just the white snow for a plate.