A twister, in twisting, would twist him a twist,

And, twisting his twists, seven twists he doth twist:

If one twist, in twisting, untwist from the twist,

The twist, untwisting, untwists the twist."

A ravelled rainbow overhead

Lets down to life its varying thread:

Love's blue,—Joy's gold,—and, fair be-

tween,

Hope's shifting light of emerald green;

With, either side, in deep relief,

A crimson Pain,—a violet Grief.

Wouldst thou, amid their gleaming hues,

Clutch after those, and these refuse?

Believe,—as thy beseeching eyes

Follow their lines, and sound the skies,—

There, where the fadeless glories shine,

An unseen angel twists the twine.

And be thou sure, what tint so e'er

The broken rays beneath may wear,

It needs them all, that, broad and white,

God's love may weave the perfect light!