Old John had an apple-tree, healthy and green, <br />Which bore the best codlins that ever were seen, <br />So juicy, so mellow, and red; <br />And when they were ripe, he disposed of his store, <br />To children or any who pass'd by his door, <br />To buy him a morsel of bread. <br /> <br />Little Dick, his next neighbour, one often might see, <br />With longing eye viewing this fine apple-tree, <br />And wishing a codlin might fall: <br />One day as he stood in the heat of the sun, <br />He began thinking whether he might not take one, <br />And then he look'd over the wall. <br /> <br />And as he again cast his eye on the tree, <br />He said to himself, "Oh, how nice they would be, <br />So cool and refreshing to-day! <br />The tree is so full, and one only I'll take, <br />And John cannot see if I give it a shake, <br />And nobody is in the way. <br /> <br />But stop, little boy, take your hand from the bough, <br />Remember, though John cannot see you just now, <br />And no one to chide you is nigh, <br />There is One, who by night, just as well as by day, <br />Can see all you do, and can hear all you say, <br />From his glorious throne in the sky. <br /> <br />O then little boy, come away from the tree, <br />Lest tempted to this wicked act you should be: <br />'Twere better to starve than to steal; <br />For the great GOD, who even through darkness can look, <br />Writes down every crime we commit, in His book; <br />Nor forgets what we try to conceal.<br /><br />Jane Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-apple-tree-2/
