THE BOW IN THE CLOUDS 



on the selfsame day. At any rate, behold the bow 

 like a flag flung out in a festive and holiday spirit, 

 that cheers and stimulates all beholders! Festivals 

 and holidays are exceptional in our lives, and there 

 may be nothing strictly analogous to them in the 

 operation of the elemental forces, but this triumphal 

 arch so suddenly sprung across the dark abyss of 

 the storm-clouds certainly affects the beholder as 

 a sign of gayety and peace and good will in nature. 

 The sunshine itself might indicate this, but the bow 

 emphasizes it and heralds it as with banners. 



The rainbow is of the earth, it is dependent upon 

 the familiar rain, it hangs over the near field or grove, 

 and yet it is from out the heavens; it brings the 

 cosmic circle, the perfect curve of the sim and moon, 

 and paints it upon the shifting mist of the storm. 

 Not often in the organic world does nature repeat 

 the precision of her astronomic curves and circles; 

 in the wavelet which a dropped pebble sets going in 

 a pool of water, in the human eye and in the eyes of 

 some of the lower animals, and in some vegetable 

 forms does she draw the perfect curve. Astronomy 

 comes down to earth now and then and casts its 

 halo about familiar things. 



The rainbow shall stand to me for the heaven-bom 

 in nature and in life — the unexpected beauty and 

 perfection that is linked with the eternal cosmic laws. 

 Nature is not all solids and fluids and gases, she is 

 not all of this earth; she is of the heavens as well. 

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