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.