Under The Orchard Tree

Under the deep-laden boughs of the orchard

Walks a maid that is fairer than all its rich fruit,

And little I doubt if I stood beneath them,

To which of the objects I'd offer my suit.

'Twas little I thought when I was a stripling

While gazing upon the apples so sweet,

I ever should see beneath the green branches

An object which yet I much sooner would greet.



Thy father was careful about his rich orchard,

To fence well and strong lest the neighbours should stray,

For now there doth, wander amid its green arbours

A maiden more lovely than aught in the way;

Its fruit I would leave to the one who may wish it,

But her, who moves so majestic between,

I'd steal from the orchard without a misgiving,

And never would touch its apples so green.