A soft whisper,
On the wings of the wind,
Like daisies and lilies and marigold,
Like rain melting the clouds,
Or a distant lark,
My soul shall taste the beauty,
Of rosy hue,
And drowsy numbness,
That thou cast upon me,
A spell so rich,
So warm,
To maketh my heart swell,
In mad pursuit,
In a trance I followeth thee,
Ye are but a sweet melody,
For a feverish heart in desire.
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