Practical Orcharding On Rough Lands, 289 



THE ORCHARD LANDS OF LONG AGO. 



''The orchard lands of long ago; 

 O drowsy winds, awake, and blow 

 The snowy blossoms back to me, 

 And all the buds that use to be, 

 Blow back along the grassy ways 

 Of truant feet, and lift the haze 

 Of happy summer from the trees 

 That trail their tresses in the seas 

 Of grain that floats and overflow 

 The orchard lands of long ago. 



Blow back the melody that slips 



In lazy laugfiter from the lips 



That marvel much if any kiss 



Is sweeter than the apple is. 



Blow back the twitter of the birds — 



The lisp, the titter, and the words 



Of merriment that found the shine 



Of summertime a glorious wine 



That drenched the leaves that loved it so, 



In orchard lands of long ago. 



O memory, alight and sing 

 Where rosy-bellied pippins cling, 

 And golden russets glint and gleam, 

 As in the old Arabian dream, 

 The fruits of that enchanted tree 

 The glad Aladdin robbed for me. 

 And, drowsy winds, awake and fan 

 My blood as when it over-ran 

 A heart ripe as the apple grow 

 In the orchard lands of long ago." 



— James Whit comb Riley, 



