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In The Poppy Field

Mad Patsy said, he said to me,

That every morning he could

An angel walking on the sky;

Across the sunny skies of

He threw great handfuls far and

Of poppy seed among the corn;

And then, he said, the angels

To see the poppies in the sun.

A poppy is a devil weed,

I said to him - he disagreed;

He said the devil had no

In spreading flowers tall and

Through corn and rye and meadow land,by garth and barrow everywhere:

The devil has not any flower,

But only money in his power.

And then he stretched out in the

And rolled upon his back for fun:

He kicked his legs and roared for

Because the sun was shining down:

He said he was a little

And would not work for any clown:

He ran and laughed behind a bee,

And danced for very ecstasy.

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James Stephens

James Stephens (9 February 1880[1] – 26 December 1950) was an Irish novelist and poet.

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