Reductio Ad Absurdum.

        I had come from the city early
                That Saturday afternoon;
            I sat with Beatrix under the trees
            In the mossy orchard; the golden bees
        Buzzed over clover-tops, pink and pearly;
                I was at peace, and inclined to spoon.

        We were stopping awhile with mother,
                At the quiet country place
            Where first we'd met, one blossomy May,
            And fallen in love so the dreamy day
        Brought to my memory many another
                In the happy time when I won her grace.

        Days in the bright Spring weather,
                When the twisted, rough old tree
        Showered down apple-blooms, dainty and sweet,
            That swung in her hair, and blushed at her feet;
        Sweet was her face as we lingered together,
                And dainty the kisses my love gave me.

        "Dear love, are you recalling
                The old days, too?" I said.
            Her sweet eyes filled, and with tender grace
            She turned and rested her blushing face
        Against my shoulder; a sunbeam falling
                Through the leaves above us crowned her head.

        And so I held her, trusting
                That none was by to see;
            A sad mistake for low, but clear,
            This feminine comment reached my ear:
        "Married for ages it's just disgusting
                Such actions and, Fred, they've got our tree!"