To Mrs. H. J. Winner.
"The Bow in the Cloud" (1874)
Ballad.
Words and Music by
Septimus Winner, 1827-1902
(using the psuedonymn Alice Hawthorne)

1.
Oh, dark was the day, without sunlight or cheer,
And dreary the moments that lengthen'd to hours;
A gloom over all seem'd to hang from the clouds,
And the rain fell like tears from the wet drooping flow'rs,
But then at the last, came a breeze from the west
That open'd the clouds to the blue sunny sky;
The hill tops all golden with glittering crest,
Gave joy to the heart and a charm to the eye:
The tempest was over the thunder so loud,
And out in the east came a "Bow in the cloud."

2.
A mother sat watching, with sorrowful gaze,
The face of her darling, so calm and so mild,
A grief in her bosom a tear in her eye,
For Death the destroyer, had taken her child;
But ah, in her sorrow, she inwardly thought,
Twere better that he, than that I should have fled,
For Heaven seems nearer and dearer by far,
And he shall not mourn for a fond mother dear.
As o'er his cold bosom she folded the shroud,
She saw in the distance the "Bow in the cloud."

3.
She said, as she gazed on the delicate form,
"The righteous are taken from evil to come"
The wheat is no longer left out in the storm,
The spirit is sunning, and safely at home;
The cord that hath bound me so closely to earth,
At last, is a chain that shall lead me elsewhere,
Shall draw me to Zion when sorrows are o'er,
And add a new joy to the Paradise there:
Then thanks for the comfort by Heaven allow'd --
Then thanks for the promise -- the "Bow in the cloud."