After dark vapors have oppress'd our plains ... by John Keats
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 mouth,
relieved from 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. 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-glass runs, A woodland
rivulet, -- a Poet's death. Source:The poetical works of John
Keats. James Miller, 647 Broadway, New York