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Like Dead Sea fruit that tempts the eye,
But turns to ashes on the lips!
Like Dead Sea fruit that tempts the eye,
But turns to ashes on the lips!
After the conquest of Afric, Greece, the lesser Asia, and Syria
were brought into Italy all the sorts of read more
After the conquest of Afric, Greece, the lesser Asia, and Syria
were brought into Italy all the sorts of their Mala, which we
interprete apples, and might signify no more at first; but were
afterwards applied to many other foreign fruits.
Like the sweet apple which reddens upon the topmost bough,
A-top on the topmost twig--which the pluckers forgot, somehow--
read more
Like the sweet apple which reddens upon the topmost bough,
A-top on the topmost twig--which the pluckers forgot, somehow--
Forgot it not, nay, but got it not, for none could get it till
now.
Oh! happy are the apples when the south winds blow.
Oh! happy are the apples when the south winds blow.
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?
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.
To satisfy the sharp desire I had
Of tasting those fair apples, I resolv'd
Not to defer; read more
To satisfy the sharp desire I had
Of tasting those fair apples, I resolv'd
Not to defer; hunger and thirst at once
Powerful persuaders, quicken'd at the scent
Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen.
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.
