 | [Poems by Piatt in] Poems of two friends |  |
15
IN THE ORCHARD.
O the beautiful apples, so golden and mellow,
They will fall at the kiss of the breeze!
While it breathes through the foliage, frosty and yellow,
When the sunshine is filling the trees.
Though high in the light wind they gladly would linger
On the boughs where their blossoms were found,
Yet they drop at a breath—at the touch of a finger,
They shatter their cores on the ground!
They will fall at the kiss of the breeze!
While it breathes through the foliage, frosty and yellow,
When the sunshine is filling the trees.
Though high in the light wind they gladly would linger
On the boughs where their blossoms were found,
Yet they drop at a breath—at the touch of a finger,
They shatter their cores on the ground!
Through the morns of October, while Autumn is trying
With all things to whisper of Spring,
How the leaves of the orchard around us are flying,
And the heavens seem ready to sing!
How the ladders in breezes of sunshine are swinging!
The farmer boys gladden and climb!
To gather the fruit they are swaying and singing—
Glad hearts to glad voices keep time!
With all things to whisper of Spring,
How the leaves of the orchard around us are flying,
And the heavens seem ready to sing!
How the ladders in breezes of sunshine are swinging!
The farmer boys gladden and climb!
To gather the fruit they are swaying and singing—
Glad hearts to glad voices keep time!
Far down the bright air they are happy to listen
The noise of the mill and the flail,
And the waters that laugh, as they leap and they glisten,
From the dam that is lighting the vale;
The wild flutter of bells that so breezily rises
From glades where the yellow leaves blow—
And the laughter of faces in childish surprises,
If the wind fling an apple below!
The noise of the mill and the flail,
And the waters that laugh, as they leap and they glisten,
From the dam that is lighting the vale;
16
From glades where the yellow leaves blow—
And the laughter of faces in childish surprises,
If the wind fling an apple below!
Oh see in the trees that are drinking the splendor,
How the gladness of boyhood is seen!
How they shake all the branches so windy and slender,
And a bright golden rain is between!
And higher they climb, till the grasses are covered
With the fruits that were sweet April flowers,
And the yellowing leaves that all over them hovered,
Flutter down with the apples in showers!
How the gladness of boyhood is seen!
How they shake all the branches so windy and slender,
And a bright golden rain is between!
And higher they climb, till the grasses are covered
With the fruits that were sweet April flowers,
And the yellowing leaves that all over them hovered,
Flutter down with the apples in showers!
The harvests are garnered—the meadows are burning,
Every sunset in golden and brown;
The apples are gathered, the wains are returning,
And the winter may bluster and frown:
The blind drifting snows may make barren the even—
Golden twilights may shiver in rain—
But the Apples and Cider by Summer are given
To give Winter to Summer again!
Every sunset in golden and brown;
The apples are gathered, the wains are returning,
And the winter may bluster and frown:
The blind drifting snows may make barren the even—
Golden twilights may shiver in rain—
But the Apples and Cider by Summer are given
To give Winter to Summer again!
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