Proem.
By Madison Julius Cawein
Oh, for a soul that fulfills
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.
Or, like the wandering wind,
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.