ESSEX flats are pink with clover, Kent is crowned with flaunting hops, Whitely shine the cliffs of Dover, Yellow wave the Midland crops; Sussex Downs the flocks grow sleek on, But, for me, I love to stand Where the Herefordshire beacon Watches o'er his orchard land. Where now sun, now shadow dapples -- As it wavers in the breeze -- Clumps of fresh-complexioned apples On the heavy-laden trees: Red and yellow, streaked and hoary, Russet-coated, pale or brown -- Some are dipped in sunset glory, And some painted by the dawn. What profusion, what abundance! Not a twig but has its fruits; High in air some in the sun dance, Some lie scattered near the roots. These the hasty winds have taken Are a green, untimely crop; Those by burly rustics shaken Fall with loud resounding plop. In this mellow autumn weather, Ruddy 'mid the long green grass, Heaped-up baskets stand together, Filled by many a blowsy lass. Red and yellow, streaked and hoary, Pile them on the granary floors, Till the yule-log's flame in glory Loudly up the chimney roars; Till gay troops of children, lightly Tripping in with shouts of glee, See ripe apples dangling brightly On the red-lit Christmas-tree. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO RIDGELY TORRENCE - PLAYWRIGHT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 20 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING AMERICA by ARTHUR CLEVELAND COXE A LOVE SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THALIA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A GOTHAMITE IN CAMELOT by BERTON BRALEY FIRST MATERNITY by KATHARINE BROWN BURT TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE BRITISH, A.D. 1901 by EDWARD CARPENTER |