Children’s voices in the orchard
Between the blossom- and the fruit-time:
Golden head, crimson head.
Between the green tip and the root.
Black wing, brown wing, hover over;
Today grieves, tomorrow grieves,
Cover me over, light-in-leaves;
Golden head, black wing,
Cling, swing,
Spring, sing,
Swing up into the apple-tree.
by T. S. Eliot
from Minor Poems