Oh, it makes no diff'rence whether
We have dark or sunny weather,

Or whether the season's dry one er a wet,

You can bet your bottom dollar
That the trees along the holler

Will be full of big persimmons, for they've never

       failed us yet.
 
Oh, the corn an' oats an' wheat crop,
Turnips, 'taters an' the beet crop,

Are now an' then a fizzl, an' it makes us swear

       an' sweat;
But there's one thing we can bank on
That we've never drawed a blank on–

It's the 'simmon crop in Kansas that has never

failed us yet.
 
When the leaves are fallin', fallin',
An' departin' birds are callin',

Callin' sof'ly to each other, "It is time for us to

       get ;"
When the year's expirin' ember
Flings its light along November,

We will gather in our 'simmon crop that never

       failed us yet.

^__Albert Bigelow Paine.