An Apple Gathering

by Christina Rossetti
I plucked pink blossoms from mine apple-tree
  And wore them all that evening in my hair:
Then in due season when I went to see
    I found no apples there.
With dangling basket all along the grass
  As I had come I went the selfsame track:
My neighbours mocked me while they saw me pass
    So empty-handed back.
Lilian and Lilias smiled in trudging by,
  Their heaped-up basket teased me like a jeer;
Sweet-voiced they sang beneath the sunset sky,
    Their mother's home was near.
Plump Gertrude passed me with her basket full,
  A stronger hand than hers helped it along;
A voice talked with her through the shadows cool
    More sweet to me than song.
Ah Willie, Willie, was my love less worth
  Than apples with their green leaves piled above?
I counted rosiest apples on the earth
    Of far less worth than love.
So once it was with me you stooped to talk
  Laughing and listening in this very lane:
To think that by this way we used to walk
    We shall not walk again!
I let my neighbours pass me, ones and twos
  And groups; the latest said the night grew chill,
And hastened: but I loitered, while the dews
    Fell fast I loitered still.