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 Flamed on me, and I knew not whence I knew This was the song that struck my whole soul through, Pierced my keen spirit of sense with edge more keen, Even when I knew not,—even ere sooth was seen,— When thou wast but the tawny sweet winged thing Whose cry was but of spring.

And yet even so thine ear should hear me—yea, Hear me this nightfall by this northland bay, Even for their sake whose loud good word I had, Singing of thee in the all-beloved clime Once, where the windy wine of spring makes mad Our sisters of Majano, who kept time Clear to my choral rhyme. Yet was the song acclaimed of these aloud Whose praise had made mute humbleness misproud, The song with answering song applauded thus,