 | Experiences |  |
55
POPLAR.
No gale that heaven could send her
Troubles the lands or seas,
Yet Poplar, that pretender,
Green-kirtled to the knees,
Troubles the lands or seas,
Yet Poplar, that pretender,
Green-kirtled to the knees,
Is crying and complaining,
Lashed by a fancied storm,
And now to earth is straining
Her silk and slender form.
Lashed by a fancied storm,
And now to earth is straining
Her silk and slender form.
A lady with a vapour,
She faints and shrieks and cries;
Again, like a tall taper,
Aspires to the still skies.
She faints and shrieks and cries;
Again, like a tall taper,
Aspires to the still skies.
Though lad and lass go Maying,
Though June hath brought the rose,
She yet goes masquing, playing,
At times of storms and snows.
Though June hath brought the rose,
She yet goes masquing, playing,
At times of storms and snows.
There's a soft voice of laughter
Amid her leafy screen,
Like small hands clapping after
The player's merriest scene.
Amid her leafy screen,
Like small hands clapping after
The player's merriest scene.
The trees of wood and coppice
Are stirring not a leaf
In time of corn and poppies,
In time of fruit and sheaf.
Are stirring not a leaf
In time of corn and poppies,
In time of fruit and sheaf.
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And yet the Poplar mocking
Of storms she has her fill,
And now wind-tossed and rocking,
And now demure and still,
Of storms she has her fill,
And now wind-tossed and rocking,
And now demure and still,
So tall, so fair, so slender,
Plays with such charm her part,
Who sees must still commend her,
Who hears exalt her art.
Plays with such charm her part,
Who sees must still commend her,
Who hears exalt her art.
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