I thought I'd always be alone
back when I built this house of stone;
It was a still and empty place,
my life dragged at a weary pace:

A fateful urge came over me
to plant a sapling apple-tree;
My thought 'twas then to mark its climb;
a living thing to measure time:

For six long years that tree did grow
and ne'er did a blossom show,
But on the seventh, to the day,
blossoms opened early May:

'Twas then my love came passing by,
delighted with my tree, and I;
A year soon passed, then YOU were born,
one sunny, happy, hope-filled morn':

I thought I'd never be alone
as laughter filled this house of stone;
It was a happy, lively place,
where dwelt your eager, elfin face:

And every year the apple tree
grew hale and strong and fair to see;
We marked the time by harvests red;
with ropes and swings in branches spread:

For eighteen years that great tree grew,
and you, my dear child, so did you;
No more that happy child one day;
a woman now . . .

And gone away.

My wife untimely died last year;
my heart aches for her presence, dear;
A sight I can not bear to see
is that of our old apple tree.

The back yard's quite dishevelled now,
the old tree sags each weary bough;
Still marking time as e'er before
as though it could wait evermore . . .

I thought I'd end my days alone
inside this empty house of stone;
Until one eve in early May,
I heard your voice . . . raised in dismay!

'Twas then you came to live with me
and brought your brand-new family;
A bright-eyed, sunny, little elf,
the spitting image of yourself!

My time grows short, I can't walk far,
but seated `neath the apple tree,
I'll watch your daughter for a while,
I'll tarry with her for a while;

What joy to see your mother's smile,
if only for a little while . . .
In one so sweet as she
beneath our dear old apple tree.