The bud of the apple is desire, the down-falling gold, The catbird's gobble in the morning half-awake... These are real only if I make them so. Whistle For me, grow green for me and, as you whistle and grow green, Intangible arrows quiver and stick in the skin And I taste at the root of the tongue the unreal of what is real.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,... The night above the dingle starry,LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
But we still remember ... above all, the cool, free aspect of the wild apple trees, generously proffering their fruit to us, thoug...h still green and crude,--the hard, round, glossy fruit, which, if not ripe, still was not poison, but New English too, brought hither, its ancestors, by ours once. These gentler trees imparted a half-civilized and twilight aspect to the otherwise barbarian land.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The life in us is like the water in the river. It may rise this year higher than man has ever known it, and flood the parched upla...nds; even this may be the eventful year, which will drown out all our muskrats. It was not always dry land where we dwell. I see far inland the banks which the stream anciently washed, before science began to record its freshets. Every one has heard the story which has gone the rounds of New England, of a strong and beautiful bug which came out of the dry leaf of an old table of apple-tree wood, which had stood in a farmer's kitchen for sixty years, first in Connecticut, and afterward in Massachusetts,--from an egg deposited in the living tree many years earlier still, as appeared by counting the annual layers beyond it; which was heard gnawing out for several weeks, hatched perchance by the heat of an urn. Who does not feel his faith in a resurrection and immortality strengthened by hearing of this? Who knows what beautiful and winged life, whose egg has been buried for ages under many concentric layers of woodenness in the dead dry life of society, deposited at first in the alburnum of the green and living tree, which has been gradually converted into the semblance of its well-seasoned tomb,--heard perchance gnawing out now for years by the astonished family of man, as they sat round the festal board,--may unexpectedly come forth from amidst society's most trivial and handselled furniture, to enjoy its perfect summer life at last! I do not say that John or Jonathan will realize all this; but such is the character of that morrow which mere lapse of time can never make to dawn. The light which puts out our eyes is darkness to us. Only that day dawns to which we are awake. There is more day to dawn. The sun is but a morning star.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
He with cowslips pale, Primrose, and purple lychnis, decked the green... Before my threshold, and my shelving walls With honeysuckle covered.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Green, green is El Aghir. It has a railway station, And the wealth of its soil has borne many another fruit:... A mairie, a school and an elegant Salle de Fetes. Such blessings, as I remarked, in effect, to the waiter, Are added unto them that have plenty of water.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »