| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Poplar | | By Richard Aldington |
| | | WHY do you always stand there shivering | |
| Between the white stream and the road? | |
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| The people pass through the dust | |
| On bicycles, in carts, in motor-cars; | |
| The waggoners go by at dawn; | 5 |
| The lovers walk on the grass path at night. | |
| |
| Stir from your roots, walk, poplar! | |
| You are more beautiful than they are. | |
| |
| I know that the white wind loves you, | |
| Is always kissing you and turning up | 10 |
| The white lining of your green petticoat. | |
| The sky darts through you like blue rain, | |
| And the grey rain drips on your flanks | |
| And loves you. | |
| And I have seen the moon | 15 |
| Slip his silver penny into your pocket | |
| As you straightened your hair; | |
| And the white mist curling and hesitating | |
| Like a bashful lover about your knees. | |
| |
| I know you, poplar; | 20 |
| I have watched you since I was ten. | |
| But if you had a little real love, | |
| A little strength, | |
| You would leave your nonchalant idle lovers | |
| And go walking down the white road | 25 |
| Behind the waggoners. | |
| |
| There are beautiful beeches | |
| Down beyond the hill. | |
| Will you always stand there shivering? | | | | |
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