For a moment the wind died,
And then came the sense of quieting leaves;
And then came the great stillness of the landscape;
And then the chorus of unheard insects;
And then the perfect sky, pouring a blaze
of light through mottled leaves.
And then the wind sprang up again—
And there was coolness in the air,
And for the face,
And the tired heart.

More verses by Theodore Dreiser

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