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 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.

by Amy Lowell
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