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Star Light, Star Bright– by Dorothy Parker


Star, that gives a gracious dole,
  What am I to choose?
Oh, will it be a shriven soul,
  Or little buckled shoes?

Shall I wish a wedding-ring,
  Bright and thin and round,
Or plead you send me covering–
  A newly spaded mound?

Gentle beam, shall I implore
  Gold, or sailing-ships,
Or beg I hate forevermore
  A pair of lying lips?

Swing you low or high away,
  Burn you hot or dim;
My only wish I dare not say–
  Lest you should grant me him.