LVII

SOME keep the Sabbath going to church;

I keep it staying at home,

With a bobolink for a chorister,

And an orchard for a dome.

Some keep the Sabbath in surplice;

I just wear my wings,

And instead of tolling the bell for church,

Our little sexton sings.

God preaches,—a noted clergyman,—

And the sermon is never long;

So instead of getting to heaven at last,

I ’m going all along!