Proem

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Wine-warm winds that sigh and sing,
  Led me, wrapped in many moods,
  Thro' the green sonorous woods
  Of belated Spring;

  Till I came where, glad with heat,
  Waste and wild the fields were strewn,
  Olden as the olden moon,
  At my weary feet;

  Wild and white with starry bloom,
  One far milky-way that dashed,
  When some mad wind o'er it flashed,
  Into billowy foam.

  I, bewildered, gazed around,
  As one on whose heavy dreams
  Comes a sudden burst of beams,
  Like a mighty sound.

  If the grander flowers I sought,
  But these berry-blooms to you,
  Evanescent as their dew,
  Only these I brought.

© Madison Julius Cawein