Classic Poem

1

The Apple top't oak in the old narrow lane
And the hedge row of bramble and thorn
Will ne'er throw their green on my visions again
As they did on that sweet dewy morn
When I went for spring pooteys and birds nests to look
Down the border of bushes ayont the fair spring
I gathered the palm grass close to the brook
And heard the sweet birds in thorn bushes sing

2

I gathered flat gravel stones up in the shallows
To make ducks and drakes when I got to a pond
The reed sparrows nest it was close to the sallows
And the wrens in a thorn bush a little beyond
And there did the stickleback shoot through the pebbles
As the bow shoots the arrow quick darting unseen
Till it came to the shallows where the water scarce drebbles
Then back dart again to the spring head of green

3

The nest of the magpie in the low bush of white thorn
And the carrion crows nest on the tree o'er the spring
I saw it in march on many a cold morn
When the arum it bloomed like a beautiful thing
And the apple top't oak aye as round as a table
That grew just above on the bank by the spring
Where every saturday noon I was able
To spend half a day and hear the birds sing

4

But now there's no holidays left to my choice
That can bring time to sit in thy pleasures again
Thy limpid brook flows and thy waters rejoice
And I long for that tree—but my wishes are vain
All that's left to me now I find in my dreams
For fate in my fortune's left nothing the same
Sweet Apple top't oak that grew by the stream
I loved thy shade once—now I love but the name