The rain! The rain! The generous rain!
All things are his who knows to wait.
Behold the rainbow bends again
Above the storied, gloried Gate--
God's written covenant to men
In tyrian tins on cloth of gold,
Such as no tongue or pen hath told!
Behold brown grasses where you pass--
A sleeping lion's tawny mane,
Brown-breasted Mother Earth, in pain
Of travail--God's forgiving grass
Long three days dead to rise again
To lead us upward, on and on--
Each blade a shining sabre drawn.
Behold His Covenant is true!
Lo! California soon shall wear
About his ample breast each hue
That yonder hangs high-arched mid air!
Behold the very grasses knew!
Behold the Resurrection is!
Behold what witness like to this?