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Oh! happy are the apples when the south winds blow.
Oh! happy are the apples when the south winds blow.
And what is more melancholy than the old apple-trees that linger
about the spot where once stood a homestead, read more
And what is more melancholy than the old apple-trees that linger
about the spot where once stood a homestead, but where there is
now only a ruined chimney rising our of a grassy and weed-grown
cellar? They offer their fruit to every wayfarer--apples that
are bitter-sweet with the moral of times vicissitude.
Art thou the topmost apple
The gathers could reach,
Reddening on the bough?
Shall read more
Art thou the topmost apple
The gathers could reach,
Reddening on the bough?
Shall I not take thee?
The apples that grew on the fruit-tree of knowledge
By woman were pluck'd, and she still wears the prize
read more
The apples that grew on the fruit-tree of knowledge
By woman were pluck'd, and she still wears the prize
To tempt us in theatre, senate, or college--
I mean the love-apples that bloom in the eyes.
- Horace Smith and James Smith,
What plant we in this apple tree?
Sweets for a hundred flowery springs
To load the May-wind's read more
What plant we in this apple tree?
Sweets for a hundred flowery springs
To load the May-wind's restless wings,
When, from the orchard-row, he pours
Its fragrance through our open doors;
A world of blossoms for the bee,
Flowers for the sick girl's silent room,
For the glad infant sprigs of bloom,
We plant with the apple tree.
Like to the apples on the Dead Sea's shore,
All ashes to the taste.
Like to the apples on the Dead Sea's shore,
All ashes to the taste.
The Blossoms and leaves in plenty
From the apple tree fall each day;
The merry breezes approach read more
The Blossoms and leaves in plenty
From the apple tree fall each day;
The merry breezes approach them,
And with them merrily play.
There's plenty of boys that will come hankering and gruvvelling
around when you've got an apple, and beg the read more
There's plenty of boys that will come hankering and gruvvelling
around when you've got an apple, and beg the core off you; but
when they're got one, and you beg for the core, and remind them
how you give them a core one time, they take a mouth at you, and
say thank you 'most to death, but there ain't a-going to be no
core.
