| Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922. |
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| The Bitter Herb |
| | | Jeanne Robert Foster |
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| O BITTER herb, Forgetfulness, | |
| I search for you in vain; | |
| You are the only growing thing | |
| Can take away my pain. | |
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| When I was young, this bitter herb | 5 |
| Grew wild on every hill; | |
| I should have plucked a store of it, | |
| And kept it by me still. | |
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| I hunt through all the meadows | |
| Where once I wandered free, | 10 |
| But the rare herb, Forgetfulness, | |
| It hides away from me. | |
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| O bitter herb, Forgetfulness, | |
| Where is your drowsy breath? | |
| Oh, can it be your seed has blown | 15 |
| Far as the Vales of Death? | |
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