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The Cow in Apple Time
by
Robert Frost
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Lyrics
The cow in apple time Something inspires the only cow of late To make no more of a wall than an open gate And think no more of wall-builders than fools Her face is flecked with pomace and she drools A cider syrup. Having tasted fruit She scorns a pasture withering to the root She runs from tree to tree where lie and sweeten The windfalls spiked with stubble and worm-eaten She leaves them bitten when she has to fly She bellows on a knoll against the sky Her udder shrivels and the milk goes dry
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