The Rainbow and the Rose

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THE RAINBOW AND THE ROSE
BY
E. NESBIT
1905
TO IRIS AND ROSAMUND
CONTENTS.
I.
THE THINGS THAT MATTER
THE CONFESSION
WORK

THE JILTED LOVER
THE WILL TO LIVE
THE
BEATIFIC VISION
II.
MUMMY WHEAT
THE BEECH TREE
IN ABSENCE

SILENCE
RAISON D'ETRE
THE ONLOOKER
THE TREE
OF KNOWLEDGE
AT PARTING
SONG
RENUNCIATION
III.
THE VEIL OF MAYA
SONG
TO VERA
THE POET TO
HIS LOVE
THE MAIDEN'S PRAYER
SONG
THE MAGIC
FLOWER
LA DERNIERE ROBE DE SOIE
THE LEAST
POSSIBLE
EN TOUT CAS
APPEAL
ST. VALENTINE'S
DAY
CHAGRIN D'AMOUR
BRIDAL EVE
LOVE AND
LIFE
FROM THE ITALIAN
IV.
"OUT OF THE FULNESS OF THE HEART"
SUMMER SONG


THE LOWER ROOM
SONG
MAY SONG
V.
TO IRIS
TO A CHILD
BIRTHDAY TALK FOR A CHILD

TO ROSAMUND
FROM THE TUSCAN
MOTHER SONG:
FROM THE PORTUGUESE
VI.
THE ISLAND
POSSESSION
ACCESSION
THE
DESTROYER
THE EGOISTS
THE WAY OF LOVE
TO
ONE WHO PLEADED FOR CANDOUR IN LOVE
THE
ENCHANTED GARDEN
THE POOR MAN'S GUEST
IN
THE SHALLOWS
"AND THE RAINS DESCENDED AND THE
FLOODS CAME"
THE STAR
VII.
THE PRODIGAL SON
DESPAIR
THE TEMPTATION

SECOND NATURE
DE PROFUNDIS
VIII.
AT THE GATE
VIA AMORIS
RETRO SATHANAS
THE
OLD DISPENSATION
THE NEW DISPENSATION
THE
THREE KINGS
IX.
AFTER DEATH
CHLOE
INVOCATION
THE LAST
BETRAYAL
A PRAYER FOR THE KING'S MAJESTY

TRUE LOVE AND NEW LOVE
DEATH
IN MEMORY OF
SARETTA DEAKIN
A PARTING
I.

THE THINGS THAT MATTER.
NOW that I've nearly done my days,
And grown too stiff to sweep or
sew,
I sit and think, till I'm amaze,
About what lots of things I know:

Things as I've found out one by one--
And when I'm fast down in
the clay,
My knowing things and how they're done
Will all be lost
and thrown away.
There's things, I know, as won't be lost,
Things as folks write and talk
about:
The way to keep your roots from frost,
And how to get your
ink spots out.
What medicine's good for sores and sprains,
What
way to salt your butter down,
What charms will cure your different
pains,
And what will bright your faded gown.
But more important things than these,
They can't be written in a book:

How fast to boil your greens and peas,
And how good bacon ought
to look;
The feel of real good wearing stuff,
The kind of apple as
will keep,
The look of bread that's rose enough,
And how to get a
child asleep.
Whether the jam is fit to pot,
Whether the milk is going to turn,

Whether a hen will lay or not,
Is things as some folks never learn.
I
know the weather by the sky,
I know what herbs grow in what lane;

And if sick men are going to die,
Or if they'll get about again.
Young wives come in, a-smiling, grave,
With secrets that they itch to
tell:
I know what sort of times they'll have,
And if they'll have a boy
or gell.
And if a lad is ill to bind,
Or some young maid is hard to
lead,
I know when you should speak 'em kind,
And when it's
scolding as they need.
I used to know where birds ud set,
And likely spots for trout or hare,

And God may want me to forget
The way to set a line or snare;

But not the way to truss a chick,

To fry a fish, or baste a roast,
Nor
how to tell, when folks are sick,
What kind of herb will ease them

most!
Forgetting seems such silly waste!
I know so many little things,

And now the Angels will make haste
To dust it all away with wings!

O God, you made me like to know,
You kept the things straight in
my head,
Please God, if you can make it so,
Let me know
something when I'm dead.
THE CONFESSION.
I HAVEN'T always acted good:
I've taken things not meant for me;

Not other people's drink and food,
But things they never seemed to
see.
I haven't done the way I ought
If all they say in church is true,

But all I've had I've fairly bought,
And paid for pretty heavy too.
For days and weeks are very long
If you get nothing new and bright,

And if you never do no wrong
Somehow you never do no right.

The chap that daresent go a yard
For fear the path should lead astray

May be a saint--though that seems hard,
But he's no traveller, any
way.
Some things I can't be sorry for,
The things that silly people hate:

But some I did I do deplore,
I knew, inside, they wasn't straight.

And when my last account is filed,
And stuck-up angels stop their
song,
I'll ask God's pardon like a child
For what I really knew was
wrong.
If you've a child, you'd rather see
A bit of temper, off and on,
A
greedy grab, a silly spree--
And then a brave thing said or done

Than hear your boy whine all day long
About the things he musn't do:

Just doing nothing, right or wrong:
And God may feel the same as
you.
For God's our Father, so they say,
He made His laws and He made
me;
He'll understand about the way
Me and His laws could not

agree.
He might say, "You're worth more, My son,
Than all My
laws since law began.
Take good with bad--here's something done--

And I'm your God, and you're My man."
WORK.
WHEN I am busying about,
Sewing on buttons, tapes, and strings,

Hanging the week's wet washing out
Or ironing the children's things,

Sweeping and dusting, cleaning