Published in The Baltimore SUN

Wednesday Morning

July 16, 1941

  By the Bentztown Bard


“Greetings, Andy Cohill”


 I thought of Andy Cohill

    When I drove the other day

               Up the mountains by his orchards

            In that Western Maryland Way:

                When I smelt that smell of apples

       In the warm sun on the hills

                 Coming from the fruited orchards

            Like Ambrosia from the stills.


                 When a man can plan a mountain

        In the trees that bear a song

                He belongs to something worthy

              In this world where we belong:

                            For where barren slopes once clustered

               He has turned them into dreams

        Of the honey-dew of apples

                       Where the precious winesap gleams.



                 Let me roll that road to Hancock
               When the summer’s and its best
                  And I smell of those Cohill apples
      And I tingle neath my vest:
      So I waved to Andy Cohill
             Who has made that land a smile
                  With the fruit of heavenly nurture,
          Made it apples mile by mile.

See Old English version


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