Apples Growing

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <h2>APPLES GROWING. </h2> <p>Underneath an apple-tree<br/> Sat a dame of comely seeming,<br/> With her work upon her knee,<br/> And her great eyes idly dreaming.<br/> O'er the harvest-acres bright,<br/> Came her husband's din of reaping;<br/> Near to her, an infant wight<br/> Through the tangled grass was creeping.</p> <p>On the branches long and high,<br/> And the great green apples growing,<br/> Rested she her wandering eye,<br/> With a retrospective knowing.<br/> "This," she said, "the shelter is,<br/> Where, when gay and raven-headed,<br/> I consented to be his,<br/> And our willing hearts were wedded.</p> <p>"Laughing words and peals of mirth,<br/> Long are changed to grave endeavor;<br/> Sorrow's winds have swept to earth<br/> Many a blossomed hope forever.<br/> Thunder-heads have hovered o'er&mdash;<br/> Storms my path have chilled and shaded;<br/> Of the bloom my gay youth bore,<br/> Some has fruited&mdash;more has faded."</p> <p>Quickly, and amid her sighs,<br/> Through the grass her baby wrestled,<br/> Smiled on her its father's eyes,<br/> And unto her bosom nestled.<br/> And with sudden, joyous glee,<br/> Half the wife's and half the mother's,<br/> "Still the best is left," said she:<br/> "I have learned to live for others."</p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />