Say the poppies and the barley, to young eyes,
In their wind thrown arc: ?Knowing nature ails
When winter comes, enjoy the spring unveiled.
Steal a kiss boldly 'fore the heart does die!?
In such a picturesque scene... if they were blind?
Wherein logic mends, his Prince's crown fails
As well. A sip of wine and a dance grow stale
If love is selfish, though intentions are right.
Yet here e'en stolid nature romances!
Wouldn't be odd to pardon such silly girls?
In sun-struck dresses, boys' eyes would melt
As the distant city paints the canvases.
But, still they must run home (alone) to worlds
Each different than hers, ?I?m in love!? they'll yell.