A frosty mist caressed my face As I chanced upon the place Sitting high upon my load Of pine logs on this snowy road Urging Mike and Molly on With steady strides their carillons Were jingling-jangling through the air And mingling with the treetops there My horses turned their snorting snouts And startled me to look about Two bulls were marching up the hill A cow on top was standing still The younger Bull Moose strode in front The old one followed with a grunt What a pure majestic sight To witness in this failing light This stately king of forest pride His hernial horns were five feet wide An antlered crown like a canoe One touch and younger bull withdrew So urging Mike and Molly on With steady strides their carillons Were jingling-jangling through the air And mingling with the antlers there If I had turned my head again I would have seen romance's end The smaller bull with puny rack Grunted twice and turned his back