Poems (Kimball)/An Easter Incident

by Harriet McEwen Kimball

AN EASTER INCIDENT.

IN moonlight the world was sleeping,
 As it slept on that night of old
When the wonderful angel descended
 And the stone from the sepulchre rolled;
The vigil of Easter was ended,
 The hour of midnight tolled.

In one of the countless chambers
 Where slumber held its sway,
Dreaming perhaps of Easter
 A tranquil sleeper lay,
When the whisper of wings beside her
 Wafted her dreams away.

Is it a bird? she wondered,
 Lifting her startled head
As she heard the delicate flitting
 Circle around her bed,
And anon against the casement
 The sweep of those wings outspread.

It was not the palpitant flutter
 Of some poor terrified thing
That beateth the bars of its prison,
 And bruiseth its tender wing,
But an eager, exultant motion,
 Glad as the pulse of spring.

The flash of a thought, and the listener
 Had lighted her lamp anew,
And wide on the shadowy chamber
 Its fullest radiance threw;
When straightway toward its shining
 The beautiful visitant flew.

A moth, a marvel of measure
 From tip to tip of its wings,
Painted in colors resplendent—
 Lightest and fairest of things;
Type of the Resurrection,
 The angel's own message it brings!

Did the angel himself, descending
 And passing through hamlet and town
To waken once more the faithful,
 Their sorrow with joy to crown,
Touch with finger transcendent
 That tiniest cradle brown?

There lay the chrysalis empty,
 Frail shell of the past, outworn;
Here was the living creature
 Exulting in beauty new-born,
And trembling as if to utter
 The truth of the Easter morn!