Explore "The Berriers" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ MORN.
/ Down silver precipices drawn / The red-wine cataracts of dawn / Pour soundless torrents wide and far, / Deluging each warm, floating star. / A sound of winds and brooks and wings, / Sweet woodland-fluted carolings, / Star radiance dashed on moss and fern, / Wet leaves that quiver, breathe, and burn; / Wet hills, hung heavily with woods, / Dew-drenched and drunken solitudes / Faint-murmuring elfin canticles; / Sound, light, and spicy boisterous smells, / And flowers and buds; tumultuous bees, / Wind-wafts and genii of the trees. / Thro' briers that trammel, one by one, / With swinging pails comes laughing on / A troop of youthful berriers, / Their wet feet glitt'ring where they pass / Thro' dew-drop studded tufts of grass: / And oh! their cheers, their merry cheers, / Wake Echo on her shrubby rock, / Whom dale and mountain answering mock / With rapid fairy horns, as if / Each mossy hill and weedy cliff / Had its imperial Oberon, / Who, seeking his Titania hid / In bloomy coverts him to shun, / In kingly wrath had called and chid.