The plants and grasses he trod were the asphodels, sundew, water-mint his feet had crushed-crushed into fragrance-five-and-twenty years ago.
"Merry-Garden and Other Stories"
Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
The fisherman beside it trampled on pimpernels, sundew, watermint, and asphodels, or pushed between clumps of Osmunda regalis that overtopped him by a couple of feet.
"The Delectable Duchy"
Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
You call it sundew: how it grows, If with its colour it have breath, If life taste sweet to it, if death Pain its soft petal, no man knows: Man has no sight or sense that saith.
"Poems & Ballads (First Series)"
Algernon Charles Swinburne