Classic Poem

In the orchard grass, through the daisies and clover,
She wandered along by the side of her lover.

She pulled the bloom from the bough above her;
And the lover watched, and stood still to reprove her.

‘Appleflower for a farewell token—
To-morrow,’ she said, ‘my heart will have broken.

‘You may come back when the rose is in bower,
But no summer can bring back the appleflower.

‘Rains may water, and suns may dapple,
But these will never grow to the apple.

‘Bloom and germ will have perished to-morrow—
Take it,’ she said, ‘'tis the token of sorrow!’

Appleflower, and the look of a lover—
Then the orchard gate—and all of it over.