After Dark Vapors

by John Keats

	After dark vapors 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 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 sleeping infant's breath --
		The gradual sand that through an hourglass runs --
	A woodland rivulet -- a poet's death.

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