'T was just this time last year I died. I know I heard the corn, When I was carried by the farms, -- It had the tassels on. . I thought how yellow it would look When Richard went to mill; And then I wanted to get out, But something held my will. . I thought just how red apples wedged The stubble's joints between; And carts went stooping round the fields To take the pumpkins in. . I wondered which would miss me least, And when Thanksgiving came, If father'd multiply the plates To make an even sum. . And if my stocking hung too high, Would it blur the Christmas glee, That not a Santa Claus coud reach The altitude of me? . But this sort grieved myself, and so I thought how it would be When just this time, some perfect year, Themselves should come to me. |