A Broken Rainbow On The Skies Of May

A Broken rainbow on the skies of May,     Touching the dripping roses and low clouds,     And in wet clouds its scattered glories lost:     So in the sorrow of her soul the ghost     Of one great love, of iridescent ray,     Spanning the roses dim of memory,     Against the tumult of life's rushing crowds     A broken rainbow on the skies of May.     A flashing humming-bird among the flowers,     Deep-coloured blooms; its slender tongue and bill     Sucking the syrups and the calyxed myrrhs,     Till, being full of sweets, away it whirrs:     Such was his love that won her heart's rich bowers     To give to him their all, their honied showers,     The bloom from which he drank his body's fill     A flashing humming-bird among the flowers.     A moon, moth-white, that through long mists of fleece     Moves amber-girt into a bulk of black,     And, lost to vision, rims the black with froth:     A love that swept its moon, like some great moth,     Across the heaven of her soul's young peace;     And, smoothly passing, in the clouds did cease     Of time, through which its burning light comes back     A moon, moth-white, that moves through mists of fleece.     A bolt of living thunder downward hurled,     Momental blazing from the piled-up storm,     That instants out the mountains and the ocean,     The towering crag, then blots the sight's commotion:     Love, love that swiftly coming bared the world,     The deeps of life, 'round which fate's clouds are curled,     And, ceasing, left all night and black alarm     A bolt of living thunder downward hurled.