Classic Poem

Once, with a landlord wondrous fine,
A weary guest, I tarried,
A golden pippin was his sign,
Upon a green branch carried!

Mine host—he was an apple-tree
With whom I took my leisure;
Fair fruit, and mellowed juicily,
He gave me from his treasure.

There came to that same hostel gay
Bright guests, in brave adorning;
A merry feast they made all day,
And sang, and slept till morning.

I, too, to rest my body laid
On bed of crimson clover;
The landlord with his own broad shade
Carefully spread me over.

I rose;—I called to pay the score,
But “No!” he grandly boweth;
Now, root and fruit, for evermore
God bless him, while he groweth!