  The Indians had a lovely thought about the rainbow,—perhaps more beautiful than the belief of the Greeks. You know how sweet and beautiful the flowers are, how we love the roses, the lilies, the pansies, and the golden-rod, and how sorry we are to have them leave us when the cold winds blow. The Indians also loved the flowers; and they fancied, when they saw such lovely colors in the rainbow which spans the heavens, that all the wild flowers—the lilies, the buttercups, and windflowers, the dainty violets and the moss of the woods—were still living and blossoming in the heavens. Our poet Longfellow has told us about this myth in his “Song of Hiawatha.” The little Hiawatha “Saw the rainbow in the heaven, In the eastern sky, the rainbow, Whispered, ‘What is that, Nokomis?’ And the good Nokomis answered: ‘’Tis the heaven of flowers you see there; All the wild flowers of the forest, All the lilies of the prairie, When on earth they fade and perish, Blossom in that heaven above us.’” In the Old Testament we are told that many, many years ago there was a great flood. It had rained for forty “And the bow shall be in the cloud; and I will look upon it, that I may remember the everlasting covenant.” |
|
