by William Leonard Courtney
In summer fields the Meadow-Sweet
Spreads its white bloom around the feet
Of those who pass In love or play
The golden hours of holiday;
And heart to answering heart can beat
Where grows the simple Meadow-Sweet
Embosomed in some cool retreat
The long seed grasses bend to meet
The stream that murmurs as it flows
Songs of forget-me-not and rose;
The filmy haze of noon-tide heat
Is faint with scents of Meadow-Sweet.
Ah, Love ! do you know Meadow-Sweet?
Does some pale ghost of passion fleet
Adown this dreary lapse of years,
So void of love, so full of fears?
Some ancient far-off echo greet
The once loved name of Meadow-Sweet