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A Child's Own Book of Verse II by  Ada M. Skinner




A goodly host one day was mine,

A Golden Apple his only sign,

That hung from a long branch, ripe and fine.

My host was the bountiful apple tree;

He gave me shelter and nourished me

With the best of fare, all fresh and free.


And light-winged guests came not a few,

To his leafy inn, and sipped the dew,

And sang their best songs ere they flew.

I slept at night, on a downy bed

Of moss, and my Host benignly spread

His own cool shadow over my head.

When I asked what reckoning there might be,

He shook his broad boughs cheerily:—

A blessing be thine, green Apple tree!


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