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.
Barry Cornwall's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (In France by Barry Cornwall )
- Make others do, gajanan mishra
- MY FEELINGS FOR YOU, AMADU KAMARA
- From Gandhiji's Quotes for Gandhi Jayanthi, Dr John Celes
- Seeing, Aparna Chatterjee
- O American Girl, Will You Take With You?, Bijay Kant Dubey
- A Woman in Love, Akhtar Jawad
- Endearing Love, Kwai Chee Low
- The Swing, Kwai Chee Low
- Price, Ashraful Alam Shikder
- Let The King Think, Ashraful Alam Shikder
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