There Was A Cherry-Tree
There was a cherry-tree.
Its bloomy snows Cool even now the fevered sight that knows No more its airy visions of pure joy — As when you were a boy.
There was a cherry-tree.
The Bluejay sat His blue against its white — O blue as jet He seemed there then!— But now — Whoever knew He was so pale a blue!
There was a cherry-tree — our child-eyes saw The miracle:— Its pure white snows did thaw Into a crimson fruitage, far too sweet But for a boy to eat.
There was a cherry-tree, give thanks and joy!— There was a bloom of snow — There was a boy — There was a bluejay of the realest blue — And fruit for both of you.
James Whitcomb Riley
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Unless
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I grow so weary, someway, of all That love and loving have vouchsafed to me, Since now all dreamed-of sweets of Am I possessed of:
When The Frost Is On The Punkin
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock, And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock, And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens, And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence...