Sweet after showers, ambrosial air, That rollest from the gorgeous gloom Of evening over brake and bloom And meadow, slowly breathing bare The round of space, and rapt below Thro' all the dewy tassell'd wood, And shadowing down the horned flood In ripples, fan my brows and blow The fever from my cheek, and sigh The full new life that feeds thy breath Throughout my frame, till Doubt and Death, Ill brethren, let the fancy fly From belt to belt of crimson seas On leagues of odor streaming far, To where in yonder orient star A hundred spirits whisper 'Peace.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLOUGH; A LANDSCAPE IN BERKSHIRE by RICHARD HENGIST (HENRY) HORNE ROOTS AND LEAVES THEMSELVES ALONE by WALT WHITMAN THE SCHOLAR OF HIS OWN PUPIL; THIRD IDYLLIUM by BION BEAUTIFUL WORLD! by JOHN STUART BLACKIE A FLOWER IN A LETTER by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING IN THE DARK by FRANCES LOUISA BUSHNELL BURNING BRUSH IN VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |