The Apple Tree

When an apple tree is ready
for the world to come and eat,
There isn't any structure
in the land that's "got it beat."
There's nothing man has builded
with the beauty or the charm
That can touch the simple grandeur
of the monarch of the farm.
There's never any picture
from a human being's brush
That has ever caught the redness
of a single apple's blush.
When an apple tree's in blossom
it is glorious to see,
But that's just a hint, at springtime,
of the better things to be;
That is just a fairy promise
from the Great Magician's wand
Of the wonders and the splendors
that are waiting just beyond
The distant edge of summer;
just a forecast of the treat
When the apple tree is ready
for the world to come and eat.
Architects of splendid vision
long have labored on the earth,
And have raised their dreams in marble
and we've marveled at their worth;
Long the spires of costly churches
have looked upward at the sky;
Rich in promise and in the beauty,
they have cheered the passer-by.
But I'm sure there's nothing finer
for the eye of man to meet
Than an apple tree that's ready
for the world to come and eat.
There's the promise of the apples,
red and gleaming in the sun,
Like the medals worn by mortals
as rewards for labors done;
And the big arms stretched wide open,
with a welcome warm and true In a way that sets you thinking
it's intended just for you.
There is nothing with a beauty
so entrancing, so complete,
As an apple tree that's ready
for the world to come and eat.