On some the sun should rise,
While others bent their mournful way
Through cold and cloudy skies.

And here I would the light'ning bring
With threatening, forked glare;
And there the hallowed rainbow fling
Across the troubled air.

Some faint and wearily should glide
Their broken flight along--
While some high in the air should ride
Dilated, bold, and strong.

Some agitated and adrift,
Against their will should rove;
Some, steering forward, sure and swift,
Should scarcely seem to move--

While others, happiest of their kind!
Should in the ether soar,
As if no care would ever find,
No sorrow reach them more;

When soon an arrow from below
Should wound them in their flight,
And many a crimson drop should flow
Before they fell in sight.

The rapid and abrupt descent,