𝓘𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓐𝓹𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓞𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓭
ʙʏ ᴄᴀʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ʀɪᴄᴇ

The apple boughs are hung with gold
And bent with fruit; the air is sweet
With drops that, falling, break the mould
At weary reapers’ feet.
The honey-bee goes booming by,
The wasp is on the wing,
And from the orchard’s fragrancy
The birds their rapture sing.

The laden trees are murmurous now
With jubilance of summer’s prime;
And nature bends with lifted brow
To greet the harvest-time.
O golden hours! O mellow days!
O thoughts that rise and flee,
To drift thro’ memory’s orchard ways
As winds drift thro’ the tree!

Now lovers stray at eventide,
Where hangs the fruit in sunset glow;
And whispers bless the shrinking bride
That only hearts may know.
And he who roams with girlish grace
Will claim his orchard’s boon,
And press life’s sweetness from her face
As apples drop in June.

Then let me wander while I may
Through bowers where summer stays,
And pluck from every wind that strays
Its blossoms, songs, and praise.
For when the fruit is gathered all,
And chilled the orchard plain,
The boughs that shook at summer’s call
May never bloom again.

@李兰迪 #李兰迪[超话]# #2025爱奇艺尖叫之夜#