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.