Meadow-Sweet
The creamy banks of meadow-sweet
Along the millstream's margin grow,
Where honey-bees with pollened feet
Hum softly to and fro.
The sound is sweet, the fragrance rare,
As summer breezes float along,
And round me all the summer air
Is full of scent and song.
O what to me are wealth and rank?
O what are men, and their deceit?
While I lie here, on the millstream's bank,
Among the meadow-sweet!
Along the millstream's margin grow,
Where honey-bees with pollened feet
Hum softly to and fro.
The sound is sweet, the fragrance rare,
As summer breezes float along,
And round me all the summer air
Is full of scent and song.
O what to me are wealth and rank?
O what are men, and their deceit?
While I lie here, on the millstream's bank,
Among the meadow-sweet!
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