Explore "The Poplars" by Theodosia Pickrering Garrison on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My poplars are like ladies trim, / Each conscious of her own estate; / In costume somewhat over prim, / In manner cordially sedate, / Like two old neighbours met to chat / Beside my garden gate.
My stately old aristocrats -- / I fancy still their talk must be / Of rose-conserves and Persian cats, / And lavender and Indian tea; -- / I wonder sometimes as I pass / If they approve of me.
I give them greeting night and morn, / I like to think they answer, too, / With that benign assurance born / When youth gives age the reverence due, / And bend their wise heads as I go / As courteous ladies do.
Long may you stand before my door, / Oh, kindly neighbours garbed in green, / And bend with rustling welcome o'er / The many friends who pass between; / And where the little children play / Look down with gracious mien.