Chapter I: Front Matter

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.