A SYMBOL.

By Mathilde Blind

Hurrying for ever in their restless flight

The generations of earth's teeming womb

Rise into being and lapse into the tomb

Liketransient bubbles sparkling in the light;

They sink in quick succession out of sight

Into the thick insuperable gloom

Our futile lives in flashing by illume —

Lightning which mocks the darkness of the night.

Nay — but consider, though we change and die,

If men must pass shall Man not still remain?

As the unnumbered drops of summer rain

Whose changing particles unchanged on high,

Fixed, in perpetual motion, yet maintain

The mystic bow emblazoned on the sky.