Poppies

thumb|right|The poppy opes her scarlet purse of dreams. thumb|right|Find me next a Poppy posy,Type of his harangues so dozy. thumb|right|The poppies hungDew-dabbled on their stalks. Poppies are a group of a flowering plants, many of which are grown in gardens for their colorful flowers. Quotes But pleasures are like poppies spread,You seize the flower, its bloom is shed. Robert Burns, Tam o' Shanter (1790). When poor Mama long restless liesShe drinks the poppy's juice;That liquor soon can close her eyes,And slumber soft produce:O then my sweet, my happy boyWill thank the Poppy-flower,Which brings the sleep to dear Mama,At midnight's darksome hour. Sara Coleridge, Pretty Lessons in Verse for Good Children (1853) Though the Philistines may jostle, you will rank as an apostle in the high aesthetic band,If you walk down Piccadilly with a poppy or a lily in your medieval hand. W. S. Gilbert, Patience (1881), Act I. Not poppy nor mandragoraNor all the drowsy syrups of the worldShall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleepWhich thou owedst yesterday. William Shakespeare, Othello (1604), Act III, scene iii; Iago, of Othello. Purpureus veluti cum flos succisus aratroLanguescit moriens; lassove papavera colloDemisere caput, pluvia cum forte gravantur. His snowy neck reclines upon his breast,Like a fair flow'r by the keen share oppress'd:Like a white poppy sinking on the plain,Whose heavy head is overcharg'd with rain. Virgil, The Aeneid, IX, 435 (trans. John Dryden). Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922) Quotes reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 613-614. I sing the Poppy! The frail snowy weed!The flower of Mercy! that within its heartDoth 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. Mary A. Barr, White Poppies. Central depth of purple,Leaves more bright than rose,Who shall tell what brightest thoughtOut of darkness grows?Who, through what funereal pain,Souls to love and peace attain? Leigh Hunt, Songs and Chorus of the Flowers, Poppies. 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 beauty show. Leigh Hunt, Songs and Chorus of the Flowers, Poppies. The poppy opes her scarlet purse of dreams. Scharmel Iris, Early Nightfall. Through the dancing poppies stoleA breeze most softly lulling to my soul. John Keats, Endymion (1818), Book I, line 565. The poppies hungDew-dabbled on their stalks. John Keats, Endymion (1818), Book I, line 681. Every castle of the airSleeps in the fine black grains, and thereAre seeds for every romance, or lightWhiff of a dream for a summer night. Amy Lowell, Sword Blades and Poppy Seed. Visions for those too tired to sleep,These seeds cast a film over eyes which weep. Amy Lowell, Sword Blades and Poppy Seed. In Flanders' fields the poppies blowBetween the crosses, row on row,That mark our place, and in the sky,The larks, still bravely singing, flyScarce heard among the guns below. Col. John McCrae, In Flander's Fields (We shall not Sleep). Find me next a Poppy posy,Type of his harangues so dozy. Thomas Moore, Wreaths for the Ministers. And would it not be proud romanceFalling in some obscure advance,To rise, a poppy field of France? William A. Percy, Poppy Fields. Let but my scarlet head appearAnd I am held in scorn;Yet juice of subtile virtue liesWithin my cup of curious dyes. Christina G. Rossetti, "Consider the Lilies of the Field". Gentle sleep!Scatter thy drowsiest poppies from above;And in new dreams not soon to vanish, blessMy senses with the sight of her I love. Horace Smith, Poppies and Sleep. And far and wide, in a scarlet tide,The poppy's bonfire spread. Bayard Taylor, Poems of the Orient, The Poet in the East, Stanza 4. 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 drankThe blood of the sun as he slaughtered sank,And clipped its cup in the purpurate shineWhen the eastern conduits ran with wine. Francis Thompson, The Poppy. Bring poppies for a weary mindThat saddens in a senseless din. William Winter, The White Flag. External links Poppy poppy Poppy Category:Flowers