In a French countryside bright with autumn, the speaker sees poplar trees as golden ladies dancing. It is a lovely, almost secret performance: only the speaker and the September sun are watching. Everyone else is absorbed in something smaller. A girl sits in the shade and sees only the sock she is knitting; a dog watches the cows; the cows notice only the grass they eat. This everyday focus is set against the speaker’s more imaginative view. There is no criticism in it—just a calm, tender awareness that most of us miss such beauty. The speaker feels a little lonely in this role, but also privileged. Repeated images of shining gold and dancing ladies create a warm, peaceful, slightly dreamy mood, as if the trees are putting on a royal procession for an audience of one.
In France — Summary
The poplars in the fields of France Are golden ladies come to dance; But yet to see them there is none But I and the September sun.
The girl who in their shadow sits Can only see the sock she knits; Her dog is watching all the day That not a cow shall go astray.
The leisurely contented cows Can only see the earth they browse; Their piebald bodies through the grass With busy, munching noses pass.
Alone the sun and I behold Processions crowned with shining gold-- The poplars in the fields of France, Like glorious ladies come to dance.