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The joy of guardian angels, the irisdescent hues,
Of many broken rainbows and ever glist’ning dews.
A thousand varied tints of rose and gold and blue,
As beautiful as friendship that’s ever proven true.

Sunbeams imprisoned that fall to earth and grow;
The lovely ling’ring blush of sunset afterglow.
The whiteness of the snows, a gleam of garish gold,
A wave of royal purple, a dash of yellow bold.

A song of the thrush beyond a jeweled lawn;
The voice of silence eloquent, a flush of rosy dawn.
A lazy breeze drifts over, then comes a gentle show’r,
Ad lo, there springs in magic the rainbow’s fairy flow’r.

by Grace Hine Dalzell
[From ‘Fleur-De-Lis – A Flower of Song’ by Walter Stager]