Poem

Cherry-Time

Robert Graves
Cherries of the night are riper Than the cherries pluckt at noon Gather to your fairy piper When he pipes his magic tune:         Merry, merry,         Take a cherry;         Mine are sounder,         Mine are rounder,         Mine are sweeter         For the eater         Under the moon. And you’ll be fairies soon. In the cherry pluckt at night, With the dew of summer swelling, There’s a juice of pure delight, Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.         Merry, merry,         Take a cherry;         Mine are sounder,         Mine are rounder,         Mine are sweeter         For the eater         In the moonlight. And you’ll be fairies quite. When I sound the fairy call, Gather here in silent meeting, Chin to knee on the orchard wall, Cooled with dew and cherries eating.         Merry, merry,         Take a cherry;         Mine are sounder,         Mine are rounder,         Mine are sweeter.         For the eater         When the dews fall. And you’ll be fairies all.

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