william allingham

Through gra**, through amber'd cornfields, our slow Stream--

Fringed with its flags and reeds and rushes tall,

And Meadowsweet, the chosen of them all

By wandering children, yellow as the cream

Of those great cows--winds on as in a dream

By mill and footbridge, hamlet old and small

(Red roofs, gray tower), and sees the sunset gleam

On mullion'd windows of an ivied Hall.

There, once upon a time, the heavy King

Trod out its perfume from the Meadowsweet,

Strown like a woman's love beneath his feet,

In stately dance or jovial banqueting,

When all was new; and in its wayfaring