After dark vapors have oppress`d 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, relieved of its pains, Takes as a long-lost right the feel of May; The eyelids with the passing coolness play Like rose leaves with the drip of Summer rains. The calmest thoughts came round us; as of leaves Budding -- fruit ripening in stillness -- Autumn suns Smiling at eve upon the quiet sheaves -- Sweet Sappho`s cheek -- a smiling infant`s breath -- The gradual sand that through an hour-glass runs -- A woodland rivulet -- a Poet`s death.SourceThe script ran 0.002 seconds.
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