Little Wren and Little Billie
You’ll sit and sing
Your prideful songs to me
Upon the branches of the aged apple tree
Its known you well and kept you hid
It’s fed you the things that buzzed upon it
Its flowers wreathed you
And crowned you with it
Every spring romancing those who stray upon it
Bearing fruit
From roots in dark soil
My eyes cannot bear to turn away from it
Sweetness is offered
And safety and strength
Apple Tree Apple Tree
Make me your friend
