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You come to
fetch me from my work to-night
When supper's on the
table, and we'll see
If I can leave off burying the
white
Soft petals fallen from the apple tree.
(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,
Mingled
with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea;)
And go
along with you ere you lose sight
Of what you came
for and become like me,
Slave to a springtime passion
for the earth.
How Love burns through the Putting in
the Seed
On through the watching for that early birth
When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,
The
sturdy seedling with arched body comes
Shouldering
its way and shedding the earth crumbs.
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