After Dark Vapours

After dark vapours have oppress'd our plainsFor a long dreary season, comes a dayBorn of the gentle South, and clears awayFrom 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.And calmest thoughts come round us; as, of leavesBudding,—fruit ripening in stillness,—Autumn sunsSmiling at eve upon the quiet sheaves,—Sweet Sappho's cheek,—a sleeping infant's breath,—The gradual sand that through an hourglass runs,—A woodland rivulet,—a Poet's death.