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Frances Cornford - In France
Work rating: Medium

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.
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