James Whitcomb Riley

There Was a Cherry

There was a cherry-tree. Its bloomy snows
Cool even now the fevered sight that knows
No more its airy visions of pure joy—
As when you were a boy.
 
There was a cherry-tree. The Bluejay sat
His blue against its white—O blue as jet
He seemed there then!—But now—Whoever knew
He was so pale a blue!
 
There was a cherry-tree—our child-eyes saw
The miracle:—Its pure white snows did thaw
Into a crimson fruitage, far too sweet
But for a boy to eat.
 
There was a cherry-tree, give thanks and joy!—
There was a bloom of snow—There was a boy—
There was a bluejay of the realest blue—
And fruit for both of you.
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