Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Thy soft-breathed hopes with magic might Have chased from my soul the shades of night

How hushed and still are earth and air, How lanquid 'neath the sun's firece ray- Drooping and faint flowers fair, On this hot, sultry, summer day!

...the wild flowers blooming in hushed solitude Start not at the whispering, 'tis but the breeze