Sweet after showers, ambrosial air

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 odour streaming far,

To where in yonder orient star

A hundred spirits whisper "Peace."