Maxioms by William Wallace Harney
Oh! happy are the apples when the south winds blow.
Oh! happy are the apples when the south winds blow.
On the road, the lonely road,
Under the cold, white moon;
Under the rugged trees he strode,
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On the road, the lonely road,
Under the cold, white moon;
Under the rugged trees he strode,
Whistled and shifted his heavy load--
Whistled a foolish tune.
