,,,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

































































































































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