Littell's Living Age/Volume 139/Issue 1793/To the Finest of Fruits

TO THE FINEST OF FRUITS.

(Sung in August by a Sub-Editor.)

Let others praise the mellow peach,
⁠The luscious grape, the golden pine;
But oh, within my modest reach,
⁠I know a fruit that's more divine.
'Mid fragrant groves of orange flower
⁠Let bridegroom roam! But weave my crown
Of gooseberries that, sweet or sour,
⁠Bloom when the world is out of town!

When silence holds the Lady's Mile,
⁠And daily sheets, grown empty too,
Hail, with a glad and greeting smile
⁠The little earthquake from Peru —
The avalanche — the hot pursuit
⁠Of luggage lost — all things that bore!
Say, what can match the cheery fruit
⁠That blooms till town is full once more!

Punch.