Page:Poets of John Company.djvu/122

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R. T. H. GRIFFITH.

See, he rides, amid the crowd.
On his elephant of cloud.
Marshalling his kingly train:
Welcome, O thou Lord of Rain!
Gathered clouds as black as night
Hide the face of heaven from sight,
Sailing on their airy road.
Sinking with their watery load;
Pouring down a flood of tears;
Pleasant music to our ears.
Woe to him whose love's away;
He must mourn, while all are gay.
Every cooling drop that flows
Swells the torrent of his woes.
If he raise his tearful eye,
INDRA'S Bow, that spans the sky,
Strung with lightning, hurls a dart
Piercing through his lonely heart:
For the clouds, in fancy's dream.
Belted with the lightning's gleam.
Conjure up the flashing zone
Of the maid he calls his own;
And the lines of glory there
Match the gems she loves to wear.
Earth, what dame has gems like thine.
When thy golden fire-flies shine?
When thy buds of emerald green
Deck the bosom of their Queen?
Look upon the woods, and see
Bursting with new life each tree.
Look upon the river side,
Where the fawns in lilies hide.
See the peacocks hail the rain.
Spreading wide their jewelled train:
They will revel, dance, and play
In their wildest joy to-day.
What delight our bosom fills.
As we gaze upon the hills