To water again we owe the marvellous spectacle of the rainbow--"God's bow
in the clouds." It is indeed truly a heavenly messenger, and so unlike
anything else that it scarcely seems to belong to this world.
Many things are colored, but the rainbow seems to be color itself.
"First the flaming red
Sprang vivid forth; the tawny orange next,
And next delicious yellow; by whose side
Fell the kind beams of all-refreshing green.
Then the pure blue that swells autumnal skies,
Ethereal play'd; and then, of sadder hue
Emerged the deeper indigo (as when
The heavy-skirted evening droops with frost),
While the last gleamings of refracted light
Died in the fainting violet away." [8]
We do not, I think, sufficiently realize how wonderful is the blessing of
color. It would have been possible, it would even seem more probable, that
though light might have enabled us to perceive objects, this could only
have been by shade and form. How we perceive color it is very difficult to
comprehend, and yet when we speak of beauty, among the ideas which come to
us most naturally are those of birds and butterflies, flowers and shells,
precious stones, skies, and rainbows.
Pages:
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287