The Fairy From The Apple-Seed

Oh apple-seed I planted in a silly shallow place In a bowl of wrought silver, with Sangamon earth within it, Oh baby tree that came, without an apple on it, A tree that grew a tiny height, but thickened on apace, With bossy glossy arms, and leaves of trembling lace.

One night the trunk was rent, and the heavy bowl rocked round, The boughs were bending here and there, with a curious locust sound, And a tiny dryad came, from out the doll tree, And held the boughs in ivory hands, And waved her black hair round, And climbed, and ate with merry words The sudden fruit it bore. And in the leaves she hides and sings And guards my study door.

She guards it like a watchdog true And robbers run away. Her eyes are lifted spears all night, But dove-eyes in the day.

And she is stranger, stronger Than the funny human race. Lovelier her form, and holier her face. She feeds me flowers and fruit With a quaint grace. She dresses in the apple-leaves As delicate as lace. This girl that came from Sangamon earth In a bowl of silver bright From an apple-seed I planted in a silly shallow place.