PLANTING OF THE APPLE-TREE 23 



The fruitage of this apple-tree, 

 Winds, and our flag of stripe and star, 

 Shall bear to coasts that lie afar, 

 Where men shall wonder at the view, 

 And ask in what fair groves they grew: 



And they who roam beyond the sea 

 Shall think of childhood's careless day, 

 And long hours passed in summer play 



In the shade of the apple-tree. 



Each year shall give this apple-tree 

 A broader flush of roseate bloom, 

 A deeper maze of verdurous gloom, 

 And loosen, when the frost-clouds lower, 

 The crisp brown leaves in thicker shower. 



The years shall come and pass; but we 

 Shall hear no longer, where we lie, 

 The summer's songs, the autumn's sigh, 



In the boughs of the apple-tree. 



But time shall waste this apple-tree. 

 Oh, when its aged branches throw 

 Thin shadows on the ground below, 

 Shall fraud and force and iron will 

 Oppress the weak and helpless still ? 



What shall the task of mercy be, 

 Amid the toils, the strifes, the tears 

 Of those who live when length of years 



Is wasting this apple-tree? 



