Dried Apples
J
James McIntyre
0
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We fear to say, and yet we must,
Dried apples once were full of dust,
And you all know it is no joke.
Saturate with tobacco smoke,
And the hole where string did go through
Was nest for animalcule,
And collected the kitchen steam.
But process now is sweet and clean,
Viewed with pleasure by spectator,
Work of the evaporator.
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
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