summer noon
So still -- so still all nature far and near , As though the world had checked its breath to hear An angel 's message from the distant skies ! This one last glance at earth -- one , only one -- To see , as through a vail , the gentle face Bent o'er me softly , with the timid love That half distrusts the sleep which gives it grace . The thought that bids mine eyelids half unclose Fades to a dream , and out from Summer goes , In the brown Autumn of her drooping eyes . Thus irregular in rhythm and vagrant in measure , my boy , are the half-sleeping thoughts of a summer noon in Virginia ; and it was fully an hour before I could summon enough strength of mind to peruse a letter recently consigned to me by a rustic chap in my native village . This chap describes to me what he calls the `` Downfall of the Dramy , '' and says he : The Dramy is a article for which I have great taste , and which I prefer to prayer-meeting as a regular thing . Since the time I wore breeches intended to facilitate frequent spankings , I have looked upon theatrical artiks with a speeshees of excitement not to be egspressed . I was once paying teller to a barber artik who shaved a great theatrical artik , and although the theatrical artik never could pay for his shaving until he drew his celery , he always frowned so splendidly when he turned down his collar , and said : `` What ho !