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