I sing the apples of my eye
And I shall sing with all my might,
For here around me, swinging high,
They tease my senses with delight.
My palate yearns! they charm my sight!
My lips with longing overflow--
(Excuse me while I take a bite!)
The Apples of Ontario.
From Astrachan to Northern Spy,
Alike they rouse my appetite
As they were wont in days gone by,
When hearts were bold and fingers light;
When barefoot pirates sought at night
The orchards where they used to grow
And filled their shirts ere put to flight--
The Apples of Ontario.
Superb in dumplings! prime in pie!
When baked they'd tempt an anchorite!
Supreme in "sass," good even dry,
But ripe and mellow, peerless quite!
I know, good friends, it is not right
Of me to tantalise you so!
If you're without--I mourn your plight--
The Apples of Ontario!