At the Foot of the Tree
They've left the ladder against the tree
From which he fell.
Lightly he scrambled up it; and he
Turned, and flourished his arm to me—
Swarmed to the topmost bough of the tree—
And then, somehow, he fell.
How he came to fall from the tree
No one can tell;
For his feet were sure; and merrily he,
Among the apples, laughed down to me,
From the topmost bough of the apple-tree;
Then slipped—how, none can tell.
None can tell how he fell from the tree—
And how he fell
Matters little enough to me.
I only know that life for me
Tumbled dead at the foot of the tree—
Dead, dead, when Donald fell.
From which he fell.
Lightly he scrambled up it; and he
Turned, and flourished his arm to me—
Swarmed to the topmost bough of the tree—
And then, somehow, he fell.
How he came to fall from the tree
No one can tell;
For his feet were sure; and merrily he,
Among the apples, laughed down to me,
From the topmost bough of the apple-tree;
Then slipped—how, none can tell.
None can tell how he fell from the tree—
And how he fell
Matters little enough to me.
I only know that life for me
Tumbled dead at the foot of the tree—
Dead, dead, when Donald fell.
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