And in the midst a golden apple grew,—

A most prodigious pippin—but it hung

Rather too high and distant; that she threw

Her glances on it, and then, longing, flung

Stones and whatever she could pick up, to

Bring down the fruit, which still perversely clung

To its own bough, and dangled yet in sight,

But always at a most provoking height;[HA]