After dark vapours have oppressed our plains
For a long dreary season, comes a day
Born of the gentle South, and clears away
From the sick heavens all unseemly stains
The anxious month, relieving from its pains
Takes as a long-lost right the feel of May
The eyelids with the pa**ing coolness play
Like rose leaves with the drip of summer rains
And calmest thoughts come round us - as of leaves
Budding - fruit ripening in stillness - autumn suns
Smiling at eve upon the quiet sheaves -
Sweet Sappho's cheek - a sleeping infant's breath -
The gradual sand that through an hour-gla** runs -
A woodland rivulet - a Poet's d**h