If I could say the words I think
My tongue with overwork would bust,
I'd make old Shakespeare rise and say;
"What varlot now disturbs my dust?"

If I would do the things which I
Am aching simply to perform,
I'd rope the lightning and I'd jerk
The terror from the blinding storm.

I'd use the comet for a bronc
And ride him straight up and proud,
My spurs would be a pair of stars
My blanket just a fleecy cloud.


I'd round up all the planets and
I'd do it sudden, sure and soon,
And then I'd sit back calm and watch
Them mill around the helpless moon.

I'd do all this and maybe more
Providing that I thought it would
To this swelling heart of mine
Do any sort of passing good.

I'd do it all and take a chance
To hold the trail through after awhile
If he would throw me just one word
And tie it up with one sweet smile.