Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/56

 And even as he spake, on high Arrows of sunlight pierced the sky. Bright streamed the rain. O'er burning snow From hill to hill a wondrous bow Of colour and fire trembled in air, Painting its heavenly beauty there. Wild flapped each fiend a batlike hood Against that 'frighting light, and stood Beating the windless rain, and then Rose heavy and slow with cowering head, Circled in company again, And into darkness fled.

Marvellous sweet it was to hear The waters gushing loud and clear; Marvellous happy it was to be Alone, and yet not solitary; Oh, out of terror and dark to come
 * In sight of home!