High up in the apple tree climbing I go,

With the sky above me, the earth below.

Each branch is the step of a wonderful stair

Which leads to the town I see shining up there.

Climbing, climbing, higher and higher,

The branches blow and I see a spire,

The gleam of a turret, the glint of a dome,

All sparkling and bright, like white sea foam.

On and on, from bough to bough,

The leaves are thick, but I push my way through;

Before, I have always had to stop,

But to-day I am sure I shall reach the top.

Today to the end of the marvelous stair,

Where those glittering pinacles flash in the air!

Climbing, climbing, higher I go,

With the sky close above me, the earth far below.

***

More poems by Amy Lowell