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To: bentfeather
Good afternoon Ms. Feather.

Meadowsweet

Through grass, 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
Our Streamlet curved, as now, through grass and wheat.

by William Allingham

1,041 posted on 05/07/2005 9:07:45 AM PDT by laurenmarlowe
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To: laurenmarlowe

Good afternoon, ms marlowe.

Wonderful imagery in this poem. Thanks so much.


Have a grand day.


1,042 posted on 05/07/2005 9:19:28 AM PDT by Soaring Feather (Honor)
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