EASTER MORNING.
105
Yet joy is here, for woods and fields
Thrill to the kiss of spring;
The brooks go laughing down the glens,
The birds for gladness sing;
In forest dells the wind flowers wave;
The earliest violets blow;
And soon will come the carnival
Of orchard flush and snow,
When air is balm and blossoms fall
As if the blessed angels all
Brought Paradise below.
Thrill to the kiss of spring;
The brooks go laughing down the glens,
The birds for gladness sing;
In forest dells the wind flowers wave;
The earliest violets blow;
And soon will come the carnival
Of orchard flush and snow,
When air is balm and blossoms fall
As if the blessed angels all
Brought Paradise below.
Alas for April song and bloom!
My eyes are dim with tears
As I think of the dead no spring will wake
Through all the circling years!
With broken hearts we laid them down;
We followed them with prayers;
And warm and true for aye we keep
Our love and trust with theirs;
But silence shrouds them evermore,
Nor sun, nor star, nor sea, nor shore,
A pitying message bears.
My eyes are dim with tears
As I think of the dead no spring will wake
Through all the circling years!
With broken hearts we laid them down;
We followed them with prayers;
And warm and true for aye we keep
Our love and trust with theirs;
But silence shrouds them evermore,
Nor sun, nor star, nor sea, nor shore,
A pitying message bears.
O for a rift in the arching heaven!
A gleam of the jasper walls!
A single note of the holy hymn
That ceaseless swells and falls!
Their graves are cold, and they never come
When the evening sun is low,
A gleam of the jasper walls!
A single note of the holy hymn
That ceaseless swells and falls!
Their graves are cold, and they never come
When the evening sun is low,
