Could love but cheer thy gloom,
Would vie with the blushing loveliness
Of May-born apple-bloom!
III.
FLOWER AND FRUIT.A sea of fair white blossoms
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Doth surge in the morning breeze,
And a song like old-time memories,
Comes stealing through the trees.
Countless, in sooth, are the blossoms,
And sweet is the murmurous song;
But the fruit, alas! will it meet our hopes?
Can that music echo long?
F. A. T.