midnight
A large old-fashioned orchard , With long grass under foot , And blackberry-brambles crawling In many a tangled shoot . From cherry time , till damsons Dropped from the branches sere , That wonderful old orchard Was full of fruit all year ; We pick 'd it up in baskets , Or pluck 'd it from the wall ; But the shaking of the pear-tree Was the grandest treat of all . Long , long the days we counted Until that day drew nigh ; Then , how we watched the sun set , And criticised the sky ! If rain -- '' ` Twill clear at midnight ; '' If dawn broke chill and gray , `` O many a cloudy morning Turns out a lovely day . '' So off we started gaily , Heedless of jolt or jar ; Through town and lane , and hamlet , In old Llewellyn 's car . He 's dead and gone -- Llewellyn , These twenty years , I doubt : If I put him in this poem , He 'll never find it out , The patient , kind Llewellyn -- Whose broad face smiled all o'er , As he lifted out us children At grandma 's very door . And there stood Grandma 's Betty , With cheeks like apples red ; And Dash , the spaniel , waddled Out of his cosy bed .