The Apple Tree In The Lane

It stood close to where on leathern hings, Tlie gate swung back from the grassy lane, When the cows came home when the dusky eve lts mantle tlirew over hill and plain, lts branches knotty and gnarled by time, Waved to and fro in the idle breeie, When the spring days wore a bluahing crowa Of blossom bright for the apple trees. Itsshadowg feil o'er the cryital stream That all the long biight summer -daye, Like a silver thread, 'mid the waviug grass Reflectad back the golden raya Of the noonday sun tfaat madly stroy To drink the fount of the brooklet dry, Uut the light elouds showered tear drops down ïill the glad brook laaghed as it glided by. Never were the apples half so sweat, Golden russets striped with red, As those that feil on the golden turf When ahe shook the branches overhead. A trysting place for youthful friends Was the apple tree in the lay of yore : And aft ve sat beneath its shade And talked right dreams of the future o'er. And when the warm October sun Shone on the apple's searlet robe. We gathered apples sound and fair. And round as our own mystio globe. The stately hemlock crowu the hill, The dark pinea rise above the plain- Bilt the one we prize far more than they, The apple trea dn the pasture laue. [jong years have passed, and cows no more Come home at night througb tfee grasy lane: Wliere the gate swung back on leathern hiuge I stand and gaze on the far-off plain, So more we list to the music low Of the orj'stal streaai as it ripples on, ind the apple tree in the pasture Iaio i Is but a dream of days by-gone.