Spirit of the Iris The joy of guardian angels, the irisdescent hues, Of many broken rainbows and ever glist'ning dews. A thousand varied tints of rose and gold and blue, As beautiful as friendship that's ever proven true. Sunbeams imprisoned that fall to earth and grow; The lovely ling'ring blush of sunset afterglow. The whiteness of the snows, a gleam of garish gold, A wave of royal purple, a dash of yellow bold. A song of the thrush beyond a jeweled lawn; The voice of silence eloquent, a flush of rosy dawn. A lazy breeze drifts over, then comes a gentle show'r, Ad lo, there springs in magic the rainbow's fairy flow'r. by Grace Hine Dalzell [From 'Fleur-De-Lis - A Flower of Song' by Walter Stager]