Poppies

The sudden night is here at once:
The lost lamb cries and runs and stands,
For all the poppy cups are hands
To seize and take him when he runs.

The dusky cups are blood colour;
And like a cup of blood this one
To drink, and be with Babylon,
And love and kiss the lips of her.--

Thy sins as snow!--just then it burned
The dark--a flaming face and bust;
And just beneath here in the dust
The Scarlet Woman laughed and turned.