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RESURRECTION
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RESURRECTION
Now the golden daffodil
Lifts from earth his shining head
That was lately frozen still
In the gardens of the dead.
Sing to the Lord a new song!
Roundelays and virelays,
Who hath slain Death and is young
Master of your holidays.
Now from places underground
Gold and purple folk will go
Haled by the shrill trumpet sound
From their wormy beds below.
Now the stone is from the tomb!
Now 'tis Easter and the morn!
Christ the Lord of Life is come,
Hath slain Death, and Life is born.
