This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

I remember Ole Ira Stiles,

Used to come to town now and then,

Spreading warmth with his ear-splittin’ smile,

And, just as suddenly, gone again.

Nobody knew where Ira called home;

He seemed to wear all that he owned.

The big friendly smile never left his face,

Except when he bowed his big head in grace.

I’m told a certain sweet thing fell in love

With Ira’s big smiles.

When news reached him of the maiden’s whim,

Ira quickly covered some miles.

Folks never saw his smiling face again,

But have you ever touched a star or held the wind?

Sometimes I think of “Ole Smiling Ira,”

But I believe his last name was really ‘Mariah.”