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And many a beauteous sun,Then we had gain'd the earth

DURING a heavy storm it chancedThat from his room a cockney glancedAt the fierce tempest as it broke,While to his neighbour thus he spoke:"The thunder has our awe inspired,Our barns by lightning have been fired,--Our sins to punish, I suppose;But in return, to soothe our woes,See how the rain in torrents fell,Making the harvest promise well!But is't a rainbow that I spyExtending o'er the dark-grey sky?With it I'm sure we may dispense,The colour'd cheat! The vain pretence!"Dame Iris straightway thus replied:"Dost dare my beauty to deride?In realms of space God station'd meA type of better worlds to beTo eyes that from life's sorrows roveIn cheerful hope to Heav'n above,And, through the mists that hover hereGod and his precepts blest revere.Do thou, then, grovel like the swine,And to the ground thy snout confine,But suffer the enlighten'd eyeTo feast upon my majesty."