The Shower Poem by George Hannibal Temple

The sky grew dull, the noon-day lamp withdrew,
In even scale the saucy winds were hung;
Sudden, dim flashed the flaming wrath along,
And played fantastics o'er the darkened blue.


Dread sounds the shower's rumbling overture!
While from the fulness of the cloud's retort,
With sprightly dance, the copious rains disport,
Adown the ambient waste of skies obscure.


Now cease the rains, the orient sunbeams glad,
Burst through the broad expanse of heaven's pall;
Through banks of rifted clouds aslant they fall,
On this revolving sphere with verdure clad.


A rainbow in the high cerulean clime,
With awe-inspiring grandeur stood unfurl'd;
From pole to pole, it spanned this reeling world,
And, on its turning axis, rode sublime.