BY JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER
"Oh, fruit cherished of boyhood! The old days recalling,
When timber-grapes had been purpling and brown nuts had been falling!
When wild, unpleasant faces we carved in its pores and skin,
Glaring out via the dark with a candle within!
When we laughed spherical the corn-heap, with hearts all in tune,
Our chair a huge pumpkin,?Our lantern the moon,
Telling stories of the fairy who traveled like steam,
In a pumpkin-shell teach, with rats for her crew!"