IN AN APPLE CELLAR

Ashburton Guardian, Volume VII, Issue 1822, 23 April 1888, Page 3

IN AN APPLE CELLAR

Red and russet and yellow, Lying here m a heap — Pippins rounded and yellow ; Greenings for Winter keep ; Seek-no-further 3, whose blushing The Soul of a saint would try, Till his face showed the crimson flushing The oheek of a Northern spy. Hid from the Winter woathor, Here, m a pile together, Safe from the wind aud sleet, Russet and Pippin meet. And m this dim and du9iy Old cellar they fondly hold A breath, like the grapes made musty By the Summer's radiant gold. Each scorns to hold a vagrant Sunbeam lost from the Bky ; When lily blooms were fragrant Wells for the butterfly. And when the snow is flying, What feasts m tho hoarded store, Of crimson and yellow lying Heaped high on the sandy floor. Fruitage of bright Spring splendour, Of loaf and blossom time. That no tropic land can mend or Tako from this frosty olimo — Fruit for tho hearthstone meeting, Whose flavour naught can destroy, Hoy/ you make my heart's awift beating ' Throb vyllh the pulflo of a boy ! Apples, soarlot and golden, Apples juicy and tart, Bringing again the olden Joy to the weary heart. You send the swift thoughts sweoping ""^""Through wreckage of time and teara. To that hidden chamber, keoping The gladness of youth's bright years.