O the apples rosy-red!
O the gnarled trunks grey and brown,
Heavy-branchèd overhead!
O the apples rosy-red!
O the merry laughter sped,
As the fruit is showered down!
O the apples rosy-red!
O the gnarled trunks grey and brown!
O the blushes rosy-red!
O the loving autumn breeze!
O the words so softly said!
O the blushes rosy-red,
While old doubts and fears lie dead,
Buried 'neath the apple-trees!
O the blushes rosy-red!
O the loving autumn breeze!
O the years so swiftly fled!
O twin hearts that beat as one,
With a love time-strengthenèd!
O the years so swiftly fled!
O the apples rosy-red,
That still ripen in the sun!
O the years so swiftly fled!
O twin hearts that beat as one!
George Weatherly.
[The Villanelle, Virelai, and Virelai Nouveau.]
VILLANELLE.
J'ay perdu ma tourterelle;
Est-ce-point elle que i'oy?[10]
Je veux aller après elle.