And eagerly she kist me with her tongue, — Conium

"He lookèd from his loft one day To where his slighted garden lay; Nettles and hemlock hid each lawn, And every flower was starved and gone."

"Bring out the hemlock! bring the funeral yew! The faithful ivy that doth all enfold; Heap high the rocks, the patient brown earth strew, And cover them against the numbing cold."

"My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:"

"CORDELIA [on her father]: Alack, tis he: why, he was met even now As mad as the vexd sea; singing aloud; Crownd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn. ..."

"The grass, forerunner of life, has gone, But plants that spring in ruins and shards Attend until your dream is done: I have seen hemlock in your yards."

"Through thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle; Thou, the hall of my fathers, art gone to decay; In thy once smiling garden, the hemlock and thistle Have choked up the rose which late bloom’d in the way."