Blooms of the Berry

I fain would tune my fancy to your key. — Sir John Suckling.
LOUISVILLE: John P. Morton and Company, Printers. 1887 COPYRIGHTED By MADISON J. CAWEIN. 1887
Transcriber's Note: Table of contents has been created for the HTML version.
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.
July 3, 1887.

Fleet swallows soared and darted 'Neath empty vaults of blue; Thick leaves close clung or parted To let the sunlight through; Each wild rose, honey-hearted, Bowed full of living dew.
II.