AN APPLE GATHERING.
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plucked pink blossoms from mine apple-tree,And wore them all that evening in my hair:Then in due season when I went to seeI found no apples there. With dangling basket all along the grassAs I had come I went the selfsame track:My neighbors mocked me while they saw me passSo empty-handed back. Lilian and Lilias smiled in trudging by,Their heaped-up basket teased me like a jeer;Sweet-voiced they sang beneath the sunset sky,Their mother's home was near. Plump Gertrude passed me with her basket full,A stronger hand than hers helped it along;A voice talked with her through the shadows coolMore sweet to me than song. Ah, Willie, Willie, was my love less worthThan apples with their green leaves piled above?I counted rosiest apples on the earthOf far less worth than love. So once it was with me you stooped to talkLaughing and listening in this very lane:To think that by this way we used to walkWe shall not walk again! I let my neighbors pass me, ones and twosAnd groups; the latest said the night grew chill,And hastened: but I loitered, while the dewsFell fast I loitered still.
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