Where the poppy-banners flow br    in and out amongst the corn, br    spotless morn br ever saw us come and go br br hand in hand, as girl and boy br    warming fast to youth and maid, br    half afraid br at the hint of passionate joy br br still in Summer's rose unshown: br    yet we heard nor knew a fear; br    strong and clear br summer's eager clarion blown br br from the sunrise to the set: br    now our feet are far away, br    night and day, br do the old-known spots forget? br br Sweet, I wonder if those hours br    breathe of us now parted thence, br    if a sense br of our love-birth thrill their flowers. br br Poppies flush all tremulous -- br    has our love grown into them, br    root and stem; br are the red blooms red with us? br br Summer's standards are outroll'd, br    other lovers wander slow; br    I would know br if the morn is that of old.