A quiet breath distils in calm...

By Theodore Harding Rand

A quiet breath distils in calm,

And fills the fields with honeyed balm;

It cools the rose's cheek, and rolleth

In drops of dew on the poppy's palm —

Each crystal globe filled full of fire,

And flashing like a color pyre,

All heavened beneath the eye of morning,

To sate the hunger of day's desire.

O Breath divine, that form and hue,

And ecstasy of light and blue,

Gave to Orion and the Pleiads,

Thou hast begotten the orbs of dew.