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The Apple Tree SaidAuthor(s): Mary Carolyn DaviesSource: Poetry, Vol. 14, No. 6 (Sep., 1919), p. 309Published by: Poetry FoundationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20572264 .
Accessed: 14/05/2014 05:12
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This content downloaded from 193.104.110.57 on Wed, 14 May 2014 05:12:23 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
Mary Carolyn Davies
But I shall have no freedom till I die; I shall know never lift of sky
Or sweep of sea: I am chained cruelly by his love of me.
THE APPLE TREE SAID
My apples are heavy upon me! It was the spring,
And proud was I of my petals Nor dreamed this thing:
That joy could grow to a burden, Or beauty could be
Changed from snow-light to heavy To humble me.
I PRAY YOU
The dead make rules, and I obey. I, too, shall be dead some day.
Youth and maid who, past my death, Have within your nostrils breath,
I pray you, for my own pain's sake, Break the rules that I shall make!
Mary Carolyn Davies
[309]
This content downloaded from 193.104.110.57 on Wed, 14 May 2014 05:12:23 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions