 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
367
PROEM
Oh, for a soul that fulfills
Music like that of a bird!
Thrilling with rapture the hills,
Heedless if any one heard.
Music like that of a bird!
Thrilling with rapture the hills,
Heedless if any one heard.
Or, like the flower that blooms
Lone in the midst of the trees,
Filling the woods with perfumes,
Careless if any one sees.
Lone in the midst of the trees,
Filling the woods with perfumes,
Careless if any one sees.
Or, like the wandering wind,
Over the meadows that swings,
Bringing wild sweets to mankind,
Knowing not that which it brings.
Over the meadows that swings,
Bringing wild sweets to mankind,
Knowing not that which it brings.
Oh, for a way to impart
Beauty, no matter how hard!
Like unto Nature, whose art
Never once dreams of reward.
Beauty, no matter how hard!
Like unto Nature, whose art
Never once dreams of reward.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |