I sing the Poppy! The frail snowy weed!
The flower of Mercy! that within its heart
Doth read more

I sing the Poppy! The frail snowy weed!
The flower of Mercy! that within its heart
Doth keep "a drop serene" for human need,
A drowsy balm for every bitter smart.
For happy hours the Rose will idly blow--
The Poppy hath a charm for pain and woe.

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.

We are slumberous poppies,
Lords of Lethe downs,
Some awake and some asleep,
Sleeping read more

We are slumberous poppies,
Lords of Lethe downs,
Some awake and some asleep,
Sleeping in our crowns.
What perchance our dreams may know,
Let our serious may know.
- 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.

Gentle sleep!
Scatter thy drowsiest poppies from above;
And in new dreams not soon to vanish, bless
read more

Gentle sleep!
Scatter thy drowsiest poppies from above;
And in new dreams not soon to vanish, bless
My senses with the sight of her I love.

And would it not be proud romance
Falling in some obscure advance,
To rise, a poppy field read more

And would it not be proud romance
Falling in some obscure advance,
To rise, a poppy field of France?

The poppy opes her scarlet purse of dreams.

The poppy opes her scarlet purse of dreams.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and read more

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard among the guns below.

The poppies hung
Dew-dabbed on their stalks.

The poppies hung
Dew-dabbed on their stalks.