The Rainbow

The Rainbow

The evening was glorious, and light through the trees
Played the sunshine and rain-drops, the birds and the breeze;
The landscape, outstretching in loveliness, lay
On the lap of the year, in the beauty of May.

For the queen of the spring, as she passed down the vale,
Left her robe on the trees, and her breath on the gale;
And the smile of her promise gave joy to the hours,
And flush in her footsteps sprang herbage and flowers.

The skies, like a banner in sunset unrolled,
O'er the west threw their splendor of azure and gold;
But one cloud at a distance rose dense, and increased,
Till its margin of black touched the zenith and east.

We gazed on the scenes, while around us they glowed,
When a vision of beauty appeared on the cloud;
'Twas not like the sun, as at mid-day we view,
Nor the moon, that rolls nightly through star-light and blue.

Like a spirit it came in the van of the storm!
And the eye and the heart hailed its beautiful form;
For it looked not severe, like an angel of wrath,
But its garment of brightness illumined its dark path.

In the hues of its grandeur sublimely it stood
O'er the river, the village, the field, and the wood;
And river, field, village, and woodlands grew bright,
As conscious they gave and afforded delight.

'Twas the bow of Omnipotence; bent in His hand,
Whose grasp at creation the universe spanned;
'Twas the presence of God, in a symbol sublime;
His vow from the flood to the exit of time!

Not dreadful, as when in the whirlwind he pleads,
When storms are his chariots, and lightnings his steeds,
The black clouds his banner of vengeance unfurled,
And thunder his voice to a guilt stricken world; -

In the breath of his presence, when thousands expire,
And seas boil with fury, and rocks burn with fire,
And the sword, and the plague-spot, with death strewn the plain,
And vultures, and wolves, are the graves of the slain;

Not such was that rainbow, that beautiful one!
Whose arch was refraction, its key stone - the sun;
A pavillion it seemed which the Deity graced,
And Justice and Mercy met there and embraced.

A while, and it sweetly bent over the gloom,
Like Love o'er a death couch, or Hope o'er the tomb;
Then left the dark scene; whence it slowly retired,
As Love had just vanished, or Hope had expired.

I gazed not alone on that source of my song;
To all who held it these verses belong;
Its presence to all was the path of the Lord!
Each full heart expanded - grew warm, and adored!

Like a visit - the converse of friends - or a day,
That bow, from my sight passed forever away;
Like that visit, that converse, that day - to my heart,
That bow from remembrance can never depart.

'Tis a picture in memory distinctly defined
With the strong and imperishing colors of mind;
A part of my being beyond my control,
Beheld on that cloud, and transcribed on my soul!

Thomas Campbell

New Series 2:28, p. 112

1841.09.11