Reductio Ad Absurdum.

I had come from the city early                     That Saturday afternoon;                 I sat with Beatrix under the trees                 In the mossy orchard; the golden bees             Buzzed over clover-tops, pink and pearly;                     I was at peace, and inclined to spoon.             We were stopping awhile with mother,                     At the quiet country place                 Where first we'd met, one blossomy May,                 And fallen in love so the dreamy day             Brought to my memory many another                     In the happy time when I won her grace.             Days in the bright Spring weather,                     When the twisted, rough old tree             Showered down apple-blooms, dainty and sweet,                 That swung in her hair, and blushed at her feet;             Sweet was her face as we lingered together,                     And dainty the kisses my love gave me.             "Dear love, are you recalling                     The old days, too?" I said.                 Her sweet eyes filled, and with tender grace                 She turned and rested her blushing face             Against my shoulder; a sunbeam falling                     Through the leaves above us crowned her head.             And so I held her, trusting                     That none was by to see;                 A sad mistake for low, but clear,                 This feminine comment reached my ear:             "Married for ages it's just disgusting                     Such actions and, Fred, they've got our tree!"