No door has my house,
⁠No house has my door;
And in and out ever
⁠I carry my store.

No grate has my kitchen,
⁠No kitchen my grate;
Yet roasts it and boils it
⁠Both early and late.

My bed has no trestles,
⁠My trestles no bed;
Yet merrier moments
⁠No mortal e'er led.

My cellar is lofty,
⁠My barn is full deep.
From top to the bottom,—
⁠There lie I and sleep.

And soon as I waken,
⁠All moves on its race;
My place has no fixture,
⁠My fixture no place.