Central depth of purple,
Leaves more bright than rose,
Who shall tell what brightest thought
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Central depth of purple,
Leaves more bright than rose,
Who shall tell what brightest thought
Out of darkness grows?
Who, through what funereal pain,
Souls to love and peace attain?
- Leigh Hunt (James Henry Leigh Hunt),

Find me next a Poppy posy,
Type of his harangues so dozy.

Find me next a Poppy posy,
Type of his harangues so dozy.

Every castle of the air
Sleeps in the fine black grains, and there
Are seeds for every read more

Every castle of the air
Sleeps in the fine black grains, and there
Are seeds for every romance, or light
Whiff of a dream for a summer night.

Visions for those too tired to sleep,
These seeds cast a film over eyes which weep.

Visions for those too tired to sleep,
These seeds cast a film over eyes which weep.

Let but my scarlet head appear
And I am held in scorn;
Yet juice of subtile virtue read more

Let but my scarlet head appear
And I am held in scorn;
Yet juice of subtile virtue lies
Within my cup of curious dyes.

The poppy opes her scarlet purse of dreams.

The poppy opes her scarlet purse of dreams.

Bring poppies for a weary mind
That saddens in a senseless din.

Bring poppies for a weary mind
That saddens in a senseless din.

And far and wide, in a scarlet tide,
The poppy's bonfire spread.

And far and wide, in a scarlet tide,
The poppy's bonfire spread.

Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare,
And left the flushed print in a poppy there:
Like read more

Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare,
And left the flushed print in a poppy there:
Like a yawn of fire from the grass it came,
And the fanning wind puffed it to flapping flame.
With burnt mouth red like a lion's it drank
The blood of the sun as he slaughtered sank,
And dipped its cup in the purpurate shine
When the eastern conduits ran with wine.