Ope Thou his deaf ears to that mighty voice,
Which doth silence e'en the loud thunder-storm,—
Whose presence there is not known, save its fire!
Strike Thou conviction to his dying heart;*
And as he gazes upon the Rainbows
Circling the mist-column of those waters,—
Let him feel that they are the living types
Of that mighty Arch, which Thine Eye of love
Hath look'd upon; and which, as Covenant
Of Thy parental care, will e'en survive