Gay Weather--for Limbo Street

IF every day
I felt the way
I do today and here,
I’d pull down Heaven and wrap it up
And take it home to my dear.
Swansdown would bed
Her poor old head,
She’d have the choicest food
And raiment I could find for her;
I’d brave the enchanted wood
Where demons slumber
And steal their lumber
And with my own hands take
A spiked cross to eternity
And hang there for her sake.