Field Path

The beams in blossom with their spots of jet

Smelt sweet as gardens wheresoever met;

The level meadow grass was in the swath;

The hedge briar rose hung right across the path,

White over with its flowers — the grass that lay

Bleaching beneath the twittering heat to hay

Smelt so deliciously, the puzzled bee

Went wondering where the honey sweets could be;

And passer-bye along the level rows

Stoopt down and whipt a bit beneath his nose.