A Broken Rainbow On The Skies Of May, Touching The Dripping Roses And Low Clouds, And In Wet Clouds Its Scattered Glories Lost: So In The Sorrow Of Her Soul The Ghost Of One Great Love, Of Iridescent Ray, Spanning The Roses Dim Of Memory, Against The Tumult Of Life'S Rushing Crowds A Broken Rainbow On The Skies Of May. A Flashing Humming-Bird Among The Flowers, Deep-Coloured Blooms; Its Slender Tongue And Bill Sucking The Syrups And The Calyxed Myrrhs, Till, Being Full Of Sweets, Away It Whirrs: Such Was His Love That Won Her Heart'S Rich Bowers To Give To Him Their All, Their Honied Showers, The Bloom From Which He Drank His Body'S Fill A Flashing Humming-Bird Among The Flowers. A Moon, Moth-White, That Through Long Mists Of Fleece Moves Amber-Girt Into A Bulk Of Black, And, Lost To Vision, Rims The Black With Froth: A Love That Swept Its Moon, Like Some Great Moth, Across The Heaven Of Her Soul'S Young Peace; And, Smoothly Passing, In The Clouds Did Cease Of Time, Through Which Its Burning Light Comes Back A Moon, Moth-White, That Moves Through Mists Of Fleece. A Bolt Of Living Thunder Downward Hurled, Momental Blazing From The Piled-Up Storm, That Instants Out The Mountains And The Ocean, The Towering Crag, Then Blots The Sight'S Commotion: Love, Love That Swiftly Coming Bared The World, The Deeps Of Life, 'Round Which Fate'S Clouds Are Curled, And, Ceasing, Left All Night And Black Alarm A Bolt Of Living Thunder Downward Hurled.