and all colour leached from the beach
this yellow horned poppy
shone like the midday sun.
A poppy grows upon the shore,
Bursts her twin cups in summer late:
Her leaves are glaucous-green and hoar,
Her petals yellow, delicate.
She has no lovers like the red,
That dances with the noble corn:
Her blossoms on the waves are shed,
Where she stands shivering and forlorn.
Shorter Poems Robert Bridges.