apple - Популярные cтихи, рассказы и фанфики

OR
IC
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HE apple trees are hung with gold, And birds are loud in Arcady, The sheep lie bleating in the fold, The wild goat runs across the wold, But yesterday his love he told, I know he will come back to me...

Like the sweet apple that
At end of the bough--Far end of the bough--Left by the gatherer's swaying,
Forgotten, so thou
Nay, not forgotten, ungotten,

1
O Blush not so
O blush not so
Or I shall think you knowing;

I’ve come to give you fruit from out my orchard,
Of wide report
I have trees there that bear me many apples
Of every sort:

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three

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