AFTER DARK VAPOURS HAVE OPPRESS'D OUR PLAINS
by John Keats
After dark vapours have oppress'd our plains
For a long dreary seasoncomes a day
Born of the gentle Southand clears away
From the sick heavens all unseemly stains.
The anxious monthrelieved 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 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 smiling infant's breath-
The gradual sand that through an hour-glass runs-
A woodland rivulet- a Poet's death. - -