Up in the tree we see you, blossom-babies,
All pink and white;
We think there must be fairies to protect you
From frost and blight,
Until, some windy day, in drifts of petals,
You take your flight.
You’ll fly away! But if we wait with patience,
Some day we’ll find
Here, in your place, full-grown and ripe, the apples
You left behind –
A goodly gift indeed, from blossom-babies
To human-kind!