Apples

By Laurence Alma-Tadema

Red cheeks, red cheeks,

Will you play with me?

No boy, pale boy,

I want to climb that tree.

Red cheeks, red cheeks,

You will tumble down —

No boy, pale boy,

I'll eat the apples brown.

Red cheeks, red cheeks,

Barns are best for rain —

No boy, pale boy,

I'll soon be down again.