Classic Poem

Apple blossom! apple blossom! how beautiful ye be!
Thus nodding, winking, glist'ning, blooming on your parent tree;
Your infant offspring nestling in your bosom silver white,
Your crimson blushes telling of a mother's hopes so bright.
Apple blossom! apple blossom! how beautiful ye be!

Apple blossom! apple blossom! that cold ungenial gale
Hath chill'd you with his freezing breath, and smote you with his hail;
And all your fairy leaflets, with the fruit-buds in their core,
Are scatter'd, sear'd, and blighted, 'mid the tempest's sullen roar.
Apple blossom! apple blossom! how desolate ye be!

Apple blossom! apple blossom! how like ye were to me,
When with my babe I blooming hung upon love's stately tree;
Till death laid low that noble tree, and from me rudely tore
The infant I had nestled in my bosom's inmost core.
Apple blossom! apple blossom! how desolate are we!