As a plump berry recalls ripe noondays
Full-blossomed in snug evening rendevous,
So a memory's fragrance should (ooze) speak warmth.
Yet winter alters all, deafly, mutely;
Her cold fruits cloy bitterly to the tongues
Of men who'd (sip) but dare not remember.
If the frost taints, is a draught worth the dregs?
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