When I was a young girl I went to the hill,
           To seek huckleberries, my basket to fill.
          They hung on the branches like grapes on the vine. . .
          Acres and acres, and all of it mine!
           
          My mama's a weaver, her work without flaws
          From woolens of coat-weight to linens like gauze.
          I played in the storeroom with satins so fine--
          Acres and acres and all of it mine!
          
          A man came to court me, and won him my hand,
          Gentle and loving with great. . .tracts of land;
          His face it is handsome, his form it is fine--
          Acres and acres, and all of it mine!