He Is Not Dead, He Is Just

I Love The Horse From Hoof To Head. From Head To Hoof And Tail To Mane. I Love The Horse As I Have Said - From Head To Hoof And Back Again.

I Don't Know How To Tell It--but Ef Such A Thing Could Be As The Angels Wantin' Boardin', And They'd Call Around On Me-- I'd Want To 'ccommodate 'em--all The Whole-in-durin' Flock-- When The Frost Is On The Punkin And The Fodder's In The Shock.

O'er Folded Blooms On Swirls Of Musk, The Beetle Booms Adown The Glooms And Bumps Along The Dusk.

To Make The World A Friendly Place, One Must Show It A Friendly Face.

And The Sun Had On A Crown Wrought Of Gilded Thistledown, And A Scarf Of Velvet Vapor And A Raveled Rainbow Gown; And His Tinsel-tangled Hair Tossed And Lost Upon The Air Was Glossier And Flossier Than Any Anywhere.