IRIS BY NIGHT Poem By Robert Frost,

One mIsty evenIng, one another’s guide,
We two were groping down a Malvern sIde,
The last wet fields and dnpping hedges home.
There came a moment of confusmg lights,
Such as accordlng to behef in Rome
Were seen of old at MemphIs on the heights
Before the fragments of a fonner sun
Could concentrate anew and rIse as one.
Light was a paste of pIgment in our eyes
And then there was a moon and then a scene
So watery as to seem submanne,
In which we two stood saturated, drownea..
The clover-mingled rowan on the ground
Had taken all the water it could as dew,
And still the air was saturated too,
Its airy pressure turned to water weight.
Then a small raInbow lIke a trelhs gate,
A very small moon-made prismatic bow,
Stood closely over us through which to go.
And then we were vouchsafed the miracle
That never yet to other two befell
And I alone of us have lived to tell
A wonderl Bow and rainbow as it bent,
Instead of moving with us as we went,
(To keep the pots of gold from being found)
It hfted from its dewy pediment
Its two mote-swimming many-colored ends,
And gathered them together in a ring.
And we stood in it softly circled round
From all division time or foe can bring
In a relation of elected friends.


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