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THE RAINBOW OF THE SOUL. |
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 | Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood |  |
265
THE RAINBOW OF THE SOUL.
When summer clouds are flying
Before the king of day,
And tears to smiles replying,
The moist leaves meet his ray:
Before the king of day,
And tears to smiles replying,
The moist leaves meet his ray:
How softly leans the rainbow
Above the weeping flowers,
As if the Peris wove it
In their aerial bowers:
Above the weeping flowers,
As if the Peris wove it
In their aerial bowers:
To guard within its circle—
Its mystic spell of love—
Their pure and pleading beauty
From storms that rage above:
Its mystic spell of love—
Their pure and pleading beauty
From storms that rage above:
But holier seems its splendour,
If Faith but whisper low,
In accents soft and tender,
“'Tis God who bends the bow!”
If Faith but whisper low,
In accents soft and tender,
“'Tis God who bends the bow!”
266
The child of gloom and glory,
Of smiles and tears enwove;
The blending of earth's sorrow
With heaven's joy and love.
Of smiles and tears enwove;
The blending of earth's sorrow
With heaven's joy and love.
The chain, the radiant garland,
That links this world of ours
With that unseen and far land
Where grow the rainbow's flowers.
That links this world of ours
With that unseen and far land
Where grow the rainbow's flowers.
And not when Nature, lonely,
Mourns for the smile of Heaven,
Not then, my Father, only
Thy promise bow is given.
Mourns for the smile of Heaven,
Not then, my Father, only
Thy promise bow is given.
When to some sacred duty
We turn with soul intent,
Then beams that braid of beauty
About our path-way bent.
We turn with soul intent,
Then beams that braid of beauty
About our path-way bent.
It spans the fount of Feeling,
In Pity's path it springs,
And floats o'er Love, revealing,
To Him, its angel wings.
In Pity's path it springs,
And floats o'er Love, revealing,
To Him, its angel wings.
267
When up through Sorrow's mourning
We trusting look to Thee,
In soften'd glory burning,
Hope's sunny bow we see.
We trusting look to Thee,
In soften'd glory burning,
Hope's sunny bow we see.
When Error's clouds are riven,
And Truth's calm voice is heard,
It glides in light from heaven,
Like some celestial bird.
And Truth's calm voice is heard,
It glides in light from heaven,
Like some celestial bird.
When o'er some fault or failing
Our tears repentant flow,
Its tenderest tints unveiling,
Descends that shining bow.
Our tears repentant flow,
Its tenderest tints unveiling,
Descends that shining bow.
When Passion's storm is conquer'd,
And Peace looks smiling through,
Its glowing garland circles
The spirit pure and true.
And Peace looks smiling through,
Its glowing garland circles
The spirit pure and true.
But most—oh! most divinely,
When o'er a foe forgiven
We lean in love benignly,
The Iris bends from heaven.
When o'er a foe forgiven
We lean in love benignly,
The Iris bends from heaven.
268
Oh, Father! from all error
So clear our spirit's eyes
That we may see thy promise
For ever in the skies.
So clear our spirit's eyes
That we may see thy promise
For ever in the skies.
| Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | |