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PROEM. W INE-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 strewvn, 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. JULY 3, i887.

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