The poem
Deeming that I was due to die I framed myself a coffin; So full of graveyard zeal was I, I set the folks a-laughing. I made it snugly to my fit, My joinering was honest; And sometimes in it I would sit, And fancy I was non est.
I stored it on my cabin shelf Forever to remind me, When I was tickled with myself, That Death was close behind me. Let's be prepared, I used to say, E're in the Dark we launch us: And so with boding day by day I kept me coffin-conscious.
Then came that winter dark as doom, No firing wood had I; My shack was icy as a tomb And I was set to die. But e'er the losing of my wits I saw that coffin there, S smashing the damned thing to bits I made a gorgeous flare.
I never saw a flame so bright, So goldenly divine, As starred the blackness of the night That boneyard box of mine. And now I go forth coffin-shy, With no more carnal fears, For radiantly sure am I I'll stack a hundred years.