Maud Müller on an August day
Took the Fever of the Hay,
Sneezing she went and her shrill Ah-chee
The mock-bird echoed from the tree.
The Judge rode slowly down the lane
Smoothing his chestnut horse’s mane,
And drew his bridle in the shade
With a stimulation to greet the maid.
He spoke of the grass, and flowers, and trees,
The pollen from which makes sufferers sneeze,