O Iris! bringing balm for Summer's tears,
So lightly gliding down thy bridge of rose,
I know not why my spirit drinks repose
Soon as thy footfall the horizon nears.
Spellbound I watch the crimson-shaded piers
As arch by arch the blooming pathway grows,
And where the richest flush of color glows
I trace thy trailing garments. Sighs and fears
Have vanished: in one long and ardent gaze
Thy steps I follow down the heavenly slope.
Iris, be mine thy message! Let thy rays
Write out how I with destiny may cope.
Ah! spanned with light would be all coming days,
Could I but read thy oracle of hope.
Frances L. Mace.