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.