| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Apple-tree | | By Nancy Campbell |
| | | I SAW the archangels in my apple-tree last night, | |
| I saw them like great birds in the starlight— | |
| Purple and burning blue, crimson and shining white. | |
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| And each to each they tossed an apple to and fro, | |
| And once I heard their laughter gay and low; | 5 |
| And yet I felt no wonder that it should be so. | |
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| But when the apple came one time to Michael’s lap | |
| I heard him say: “The mysteries that enwrap | |
| The earth and fill the heavens can be read here, mayhap.” | |
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| Then Gabriel spoke: “I praise the deed, the hidden thing.” | 10 |
| “The beauty of the blossom of the spring | |
| I praise,” cried Raphael. Uriel: “The wise leaves I sing.” | |
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| And Michael: “I will praise the fruit, perfected, round, | |
| Full of the love of God, herein being bound | |
| His mercies gathered from the sun and rain and ground.” | 15 |
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| So sang they till a small wind through the branches stirred, | |
| And spoke of coming dawn; and at its word | |
| Each fled away to heaven, winged like a bird. | | | | |
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