Eastern sky at dawn was bright,
Glorious arose the sun;
Everywhere was brilliant light—
Day in beauty had begun.
But the West was overcast
With a cloud, foreboding storm;
Raindrops soon were falling fast,
Then appeared the rainbow's form.
In the West, revealed to sight,
Stood the arch of color rare,
Perfect in the glowing light,
Yet a sign of sure storm there.
Rapidly the clouds o'erspread,
Gone the wondrous rainbow bright,
Gone the fair sweet morn—instead,
All around us gloom of night.
Came the warning not in vain,
Gloom-enshrouded heavens frown—
Ere an hour had passed the rain
Poured in dashing torrents down.
Through the long and gloomy day,
Till the afternoon was gone,
Fell the rain from clouds of gray;
Such the end to perfect dawn!
With this day, in promise bright,
Will some human lives compare;
Perfect is the dawn of light,
With a flush of color rare.
Bright the morn—too bright to last—
Comes the cloud, and falls the rain;
Soon is dawn's effulgence past,
Early promise all in vain.
