So late the rustling shower was heard; br Yet now the aëry west is still. br The wet leaves flash, and lightly stirred br Great drops out of the lilac spill. br Peacefully blown, the ashen clouds br Uncurtain height on height of sky. br Here, as I wander, beauty crowds br In freshness keen upon my eye. br br Now the shorn turf a glowing green br Takes in the massy cedar shade; br And through the poplar's trembling screen br Fires of the evening blush and fade. br Each way my marvelling senses feel br Swift odour, light, and luminous hue br Of leaf and flower upon them steal: br The songs of birds pierce my heart through. br br The tulip clear, like yellow flame, br Burns upward from the gloomy mould: br As though for passion forth they came, br Red hearts of peonies unfold: br And perfumes tender, sweet, intense br Enter me, delicate as a blade. br The lilac odour wounds my sense, br Of the rich rose I am afraid.