Glinting golden through the trees,

Apples of Hesperides!

Through the moon-pierced warp of night

Shoot pale shafts of yellow light,

Swaying to the kissing breeze

Swings the treasure, golden-gleaming,

Apples of Hesperides!

Far and lofty yet they glimmer,

Apples of Hesperides!

Blinded by their radiant shimmer,

Pushing forward just for these;

Dew-besprinkled, bramble-marred,

Poor duped mortal, travel-scarred,

Always thinking soon to seize

And possess the golden-glistening

Apples of Hesperides!

Orbed, and glittering, and pendent,

Apples of Hesperides!

Not one missing, still transcendent,

Clustering like a swarm of bees.

Yielding to no man’s desire,

Glowing with a saffron fire,

Splendid, unassailed, the golden

Apples of Hesperides!

***

More poems by Amy Lowell