Classic Poem

In pink and white the orchards lie,
Fragrant beneath an April sky,
The golden summer draweth nigh
In pink and white.

A robin in an apple-tree,
Is carolling in ecstasy —
And O puissant heart of me,

That little recks of fate or fear,
For Preciosa's cheek is near,
Where blushes blossom all the year
In pink and white.