THE RAINBOW.

Storm-clouds and thunder and dark rainy weather, Wet streams are flowing all down the Shining Way; Jimmy and Alice and I are here together, Cooped in the nursery and longing for a play. Look! there’s a sunbeam, through a sky-crack poking; Quick! get your shoes off, as still as still can be; Slip out the back door, Mother isn’t looking, Steal down the wood-road, before she turns to see. Great jolly puddles, round and wet and gleaming— Here’s a still clear one, grassy, cool and sweet; But we love the brown ones, and in we paddle, screaming, Laughing, while the soft mud oozes ’round our feet. Trees shake their wet cloaks, and on us falls a shower; We laugh the louder, as down the road we run. See! there’s a cowslip, and here’s a fairies’ bower, All made of violets, nodding to the sun. Down in the East, where we still can hear the thunder, Over the cloud bends a misty, shining Bow. Right at the foot of it are hidden many wonders, If we can get there before the colors go. Run, hand in hand, then, hair all a-dripping, Bare feet splashing thro’ the puddles as we fly. Soft shines the Rainbow, as toward it we are tripping; The green earth is waving and smiling to the sky.