After the Flood

Noah retrieves the dove again,
Which bears him in its bill
A twig of olive to explain
That, if God sends them no more rain,
The world may prosper still.

Shem, Ham, and Japheth raise a shout
But weeks on end must wait
Till Father Noah, venturing out,
Can view the landscape all about
And prophesy their fate.

“Where had the waters of God’s Flood
Dispersed?” God only knew.
What Noah saw was miles of mud,
Drowned rogues, and almond trees in bud
With blossom peeping through.

“Bold lads, in patience here abide!
The mire around this ark
By wind or sun must be well dried
Before we set against her side
The planks to disembark.”

Obedient sons, a virtuous wife,
Flocks, cattle, jars of seeds,
Crook, colter, halter, pruning knife —
Noah forecasts a brave new life
Agreeable to his needs.

We too exult at the clear sky,
Twin Noahs of today,
For though we here and there descry
Morasses that no sun can dry
(Regret them how we may),

God’s rainbow is a glorious toy,
His wine a cheerful drink,
And since He chooses to destroy
Rogues better dead, we wish Him joy,
While choking at the stink.