“In that soft season, when descending showers Call forth the greens, and wake the rising flowers, When opening buds salute the welcome day, And earth relenting feels the genial ray; As balmy sleep had charm’d my cares to rest, And love itself was banish’d from my breast, (What time the morn mysteriou…”— Alexander Pope, oll.libertyfund.orgTagged: Seasons, Love, Showers, Breast, Slumbers