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James Whitcomb Riley

There Was a Cherry-Tree

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 set

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.