Poems (Tynan)/Easter
For works with similar titles, see Easter.
EASTER
Bring flowers to strew His way, Yea, sing, make holiday; Bid young lambs leap, And earth laugh after sleep.
For now He cometh forth Winter flies to the north, Folds wings and cries Amid the bergs and ice.
Bring no sad palms like those That led Him to His foes, Bring wind-flower, daffodil. From many a vernal hill.
Let there be naught but bloom To light Him from the tomb Who late hath slain Death, and his glory ta'en.
Yea, Death, great Death is dead, And Life reigns in his stead; Cometh the Athlete New from dead Death's defeat.
Cometh the Wrestler, But Death he makes no stir, Utterly spent and done, And all his kingdom gone.
Bring flowers, make holiday,In His triumphal way. Salve ye with kisses His hurts that make your blisses.
Bring flowers, make holiday, For His triumphal way: Yea, fling before Him Hearts of men that adore Him.