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Poppy Song
II
Oh, unhappy now to waken
When the dream had scarce begun!
Out of gentle twilight taken
Into realms of burning sun:
Oh, unhappy now to find me
Lost 'neath heavens hot with noon;
All that fairy land behind me;
Poppy fields and rising moon!
Drawbridge and portcullis screeching,
Bugles braying soon and late;
Who are they that come beseeching,
Calling at my castle gate?
Drive them hence, for they encumber
Days and nights with waking pain;
Tell them that I lie and slumber
Under poppies, wet with rain.
Who art thou that bendest praying
Over me with dasped palms;
Dim through surging darkness, saying
Words of prayer and murmured psalms?
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