The Wild Apple Tree

                While the warm sun drops down,
                And the blue sky opens wide,
                If the wind of spring's arbour
                And the shepherd's whistle by,
                The morn shall yet be new to me,
              And the green leaves clearer,${\n}
                And the frail leavings of the past
                Shall be blown away above the boughs - 
                And the wild apple tree shall bloom.
                
                Somewhere, perhaps in a hedge,
                Or by the banks of a brook,
                Shall a bee hum, and now and again,
                The tendril grass shall crack one happy smile.
                For these are triads of life,
                And sweetly they assemble, and glide,
                And march in plenty, yielding a high tide.
                In flowers and stars, in sprigs and springs.
                
                There shall the knotted bough sway,
                And my wild heart dance with it.
                Let the spectres of the past hide;
                Let a faint joy withstand the night—
                Let nothing sully this fair scene,
                But my heart be free with the wild apple tree.

• Ivor Gurney