Delight is as the flight —
Or in the Ratio of it,
As the Schools would say —
The Rainbow’s way —
A Skein
Flung colored, after Rain,
Would suit as bright,
Except that flight
Were Aliment —
“If it would last”
I asked the East,
When that Bent Stripe
Struck up my childish
Firmament —
And I, for glee,
Took Rainbows, as the common way,
And empty Skies
The Eccentricity —
And so with Lives —
And so with Butterflies —
Seen magic — through the fright
That they will cheat the sight —
And Dower latitudes far on —
Some sudden morn —
Our portion — in the fashion —
Done —
Delight is fleeting, like a rainbow.