An Apple Gathering Christina Rossetti

I plucked pink blossoms from mine apple-tree,
        And wore them all that evening in my hair:
Then in due season when I went to see
        I found no apples there.

With dangling basket all along the grass
        As I had come I went the selfsame track:
My neighbours mocked me while they saw me pass
        So empty-handed back.

Lilian and Lilias smiled in trudging by,
        Their heaped-up basket teased me like a jeer;
Sweet-voiced they sang beneath the sunset sky,
        Their mother's home was near.

Plump Gertrude passed me with her basket full,
        A stronger hand than hers helped it along;
A voice talked with her through the shadows cool
        More sweet to me than song.

Ah, Willie, Willie, was my love less worth
        Than apples with their green leaves piled above?
I counted rosiest apples on the earth
        Of far less worth than love.

So once it was with me you stooped to talk
        Laughing and listening in this very lane:
To think that by this way we used to walk
        We shall not walk again!