In France Poem by Frances Darwin Cornford

In France

Rating: 2.7


The poplars in the fields of France
Are golden ladies come to dance ;
But yet to see them there is none
But I and the September sun.

The girl who in their shadow sits
Can only see the sock she knits ;
Her dog is watching all the day
That not a cow shall go astray.

The leisurely contented cows
Can only see the earth they browse ;
Their piebald bodies through the grass
With busy, munching noses pass.

Alone the sun and I behold
Processions crowned with shining gold
The poplars in the fields of France,
Like glorious ladies come to dance.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Sameena Khan 21 July 2021

I remember this poem and i might be wrong, but there is a verse missing after verse 5 which goes like this...I called to him in a thousand ways and yet he did not come; the pathways and the hedges were horrible and dumb; I prayed to God who never heard, my desperate soul grew numb...

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