TO THE RAINBOW.

TRIUMPHAL arch, that fill'st the sky

When storms prepare to part,

I ask not proud Philosophy

To teach me what thou art

Still seem as to my childhood's sight,

A midway station given

For happy spirits to alight

Betwixt the earth and heaven.

Can all that Optics teach, unfold
Thy form to please me so,

As when I dreamt of gems and gold

When Science from Creation's face

Enchantment's veil withdraws,

What lovely visions yield their place

To cold material laws!

And yet, fair bow, no fabling dreams,

But words of the Most High,

Have told why first thy robe of beams

Was woven in the sky.

When o'er the green undeluged earth

Heaven's covenant thou didst shine,

How came the world's grey fathers forth To watch thy sacred sign.

And when its yellow lustre smiled

O'er mountains yet untrod,

Each mother held aloft her child

To bless the bow of God.

As fresh in yon horizon dark,

As young thy beauties seem,

As when the eagle from the ark

First sported in thy beam.

For, faithful to its sacred page,
Heaven still rebuilds thy span,

Nor lets the type grow pale with age
That first spoke peace to man.

That gave my spirit strength to sweep

Adown the gulph of Time!

I saw the last of human mould,

That shall Creation's death behold,

As Adam saw her prime !