Keats, John: After dark vapors have oppress'd our plains...
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After dark vapors have oppress'd our plains... (English)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.
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