UNDER green mango boughs
They pitch my little house;
Earth is the floor at my feet,
⁠My walls are a canvas fold
To screen me from the heat
⁠And to keep me from the cold.
Free from taxes and rents,
⁠I am a dweller in tents,

Under the open sky
⁠My simple stables lie—
Leaves and the sky are the roof
⁠Whereunder my ponies chew,
Fidget, and paw the hoof
⁠All the warm day through,
They have thick wadded coats for night,
⁠Looking like armadilloes!
How they sleep till the morning light
⁠With straw for their beds and pillows.