The forest green is ne’er too far
To intercept the evening star
The valley grove is none to deep
To interrupt their placid sleep
The world turns as stars shine bright
The moon then glows with light this night
The stars are masked, the moon’s faint ray
Then, the sun, hearkens the coming day
A narrow stream goes flowing by
A wispy cloud floats in the sky
The grove of trees stands in the air
A possum scurries, a hopping hare
A morning fire, they rub their hands
And hold their blankets, tight, in their hands
And cereal and cinnamon spice
Seal away the long cold night
The beggars dress and down the road
With aplomb, carry out the load