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They swore eternal faith, and daily he 

 Plucked golden apples from Pomona's tree ; 

 Yet often wondered, joy that was so sweet. 

 Came to his life, through byways of deceit. 



Another story of an apple, I 



Bring from the legends of the long gone by; 



You know it well. — Upon the wedding night 



Of Peleus, and of Thetis, from Heaven's height, 



Eris, the god of Discord, boldly threw 



A golden apple to the gods. — They knew 



No hidden meaning, till wise Peleus read 



Upon the apple, and interpreted, 



"Detur pulchriori" 



"To the most fair" — 

 "Whose shall it be?" 



Minerva claimed it there. 

 Juno and Venus both demand the prize. 

 Though none deserves it in the other's eyes. 

 Which goddess should the golden apple own 

 Was left to Priam's son. — Delights unknown 

 Each promised Paris. Juno promised wealth; 

 Minerva, glory ; Venus. Love and health ; 

 And Grecia's fairest maiden for a wife. 

 So Venus conquered, and the dreadful strife 

 Among the angry goddesses began, 

 'Till Helen, who had beauty greater than 

 All other mortals, (Menelaus' dame) 

 The wife of Paris treacherously became — 

 Achilles rages. — War and strife increase 

 Between the land of Troy, and land of Greece ; 

 And, from an apple and a woman rose 

 A war, whose story through the ages flows. 



We read these legends, and the rapt soul hears, 



Mingled with fables, songs of other years. 



O golden apples of our early youth. 



Ye hung above us, night and day, forsooth. 



We reached you ; touched you ; but we did not take ; 



Ye vanished, for the dragon was awake. 



Or, while we looked and longed, some Hercules 



Had seized our apples of Hesperides. — 



O crimson glories of our later prime. 



The Summer Sweetings of our August time ! 



We seek ye, longing, but some other holds 



The apple of our joy, beneath his folds. 



We seek ye more and more, from day to day. 



