The other father had a weaklier child, Of a soft cheek, and aspect delicate;[136] But the boy bore up long, and with a mild And patient spirit held aloof his fate; Little he said, and now and then he smiled, As if to win a part from off the weight He saw increasing on his father's heart, With the deep deadly thought, that they must part. LXXXIX. And o'er him bent his sire, and never raised His eyes from off his face, but wiped the foam From his pale lips, and ever on him gazed, And when the wished-for shower at length was come, And the boy's eyes, which the dull film half glazed, Brightened, and for a moment seemed to roam, He squeezed from out a rag some drops of rain Into his dying child's mouth--but in vain.[137] XC. The boy expired--the father held the clay, And looked upon it long, and when at last Death left no doubt, and the dead burthen lay Stiff on his heart, and pulse and hope were past, He watched it wistfully, until away 'T was borne by the rude wave wherein't was cast;[138] Then he himself sunk down all dumb and shivering, And gave no sign of life, save his limbs quivering. XCI. Now overhead a rainbow, bursting through The scattering clouds, shone, spanning the dark sea, Resting its bright base on the quivering blue; And all within its arch appeared to be Clearer than that without, and its wide hue Waxed broad and waving, like a banner free, Then changed like to a bow that's bent, and then Forsook the dim eyes of these shipwrecked men. XCII. It changed, of course; a heavenly Chameleon, The airy child of vapour and the sun, Brought forth in purple, cradled in vermilion, Baptized in molten gold, and swathed in dun, Glittering like crescents o'er a Turk's pavilion, And blending every colour into one, Just like a black eye in a recent scuffle (For sometimes we must box without the muffle). XCIII. Our shipwrecked seamen thought it a good omen-- It is as well to think so, now and then; 'T was an old custom of the Greek and Roman, And may become of great advantage when Folks are discouraged; and most surely no men Had greater need to nerve themselves again Than these, and so this rainbow looked like Hope-- Quite a celestial Kaleidoscope. XCIV. About this time a beautiful white bird, Webfooted, not unlike a dove in size And plumage (probably it might have erred Upon its course), passed oft before their eyes, And tried to perch, although it saw and heard The men within the boat, and in this guise It came and went, and fluttered round them till Night fell:--this seemed a better omen still.[139] XCV.