,,,like living coals, the apples burned among the withering leaves. (Longfellow)

 My boy Robinson:

"Lo! sweeten’d with the summer light,

The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow,

Drops in a silent autumn night.

All its allotted length of days

The flower ripens in its place,

Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil,

Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil."

-   Alfred Lord Tennyson, The Lotus-Eaters