Easter
by Genevieve M. J. Irons
Deep in yon garden-shade
The life of all is laid
In death's calm sleep;
Armed soldiers waiting near,
Amazed and full of fear,
Their vigil keep.
Angels, and stars, and the fair moon above.
Look down in silent awe and reverent love.
Through the dark cypress-trees
The gentle midnight breeze
Sighs a low wail;
Breath from the dewy ground
O'er the green earth around
Spreads a soft veil;
Each glade and valley, mountain, dale, and hill,
Echoes the solemn whisper, "Peace, be still."
Hushed Nature sinks to rest,
And on her Maker's breast
She falls asleep ;
Released from human woes.
The Almighty finds repose
In slumber deep ;
But saints are watching through the silent night.
In eager patience waiting for the light.
The mother undefiled
Is pondering on her Child,
Now crucified;
And through her tearless dreams
The cross in radiance beams,
Whereon he died.
Bright visions dawn. Behold ! the darkness flies,
Resplendent from the grave she sees him rise.
John the Beloved stands by,
Gazing with wondering eye
At Mary's smile ;
And angels at the sight,
Pause in their heavenward flight.
To muse awhile.
Yet the sun hides itself in dim eclipse,
While he awaits his full apocalypse.
Peter, who thrice denied
The Master at his side.
The Lord of all.
With penitential tears
And deep heart-searching fears.
Bewails his fall.
There, as he weeps in bitter grief apart,
His Savior's look speaks comfort to his heart.
The lowly Magdalene
(Of penitents the queen)
Waits for the morn.
When in that cave so still
Her task she may fulfill
Of love forlorn;
And first to her Christ risen shall appear,
Though in a form unknown he draweth near.
While he who longed to die
With Christ on Calvary,
Whose love devout
His Master proved and tried
By heartfelt prayer denied,
Must wait in doubt ;
Eight days of solemn gloom in darkness past,
On trustful Thomas he will shine at last.
But lo, the Sabbath ends !
Nocturn with matins blends.
The morning breaks ;
The shadows flee away
Before the rising day,
And Christ awakes !
Angels proclaim the anthem far and near,
" Ye seek your risen Lord; he is not here."
The life of all is laid
In death's calm sleep;
Armed soldiers waiting near,
Amazed and full of fear,
Their vigil keep.
Angels, and stars, and the fair moon above.
Look down in silent awe and reverent love.
Through the dark cypress-trees
The gentle midnight breeze
Sighs a low wail;
Breath from the dewy ground
O'er the green earth around
Spreads a soft veil;
Each glade and valley, mountain, dale, and hill,
Echoes the solemn whisper, "Peace, be still."
Hushed Nature sinks to rest,
And on her Maker's breast
She falls asleep ;
Released from human woes.
The Almighty finds repose
In slumber deep ;
But saints are watching through the silent night.
In eager patience waiting for the light.
The mother undefiled
Is pondering on her Child,
Now crucified;
And through her tearless dreams
The cross in radiance beams,
Whereon he died.
Bright visions dawn. Behold ! the darkness flies,
Resplendent from the grave she sees him rise.
John the Beloved stands by,
Gazing with wondering eye
At Mary's smile ;
And angels at the sight,
Pause in their heavenward flight.
To muse awhile.
Yet the sun hides itself in dim eclipse,
While he awaits his full apocalypse.
Peter, who thrice denied
The Master at his side.
The Lord of all.
With penitential tears
And deep heart-searching fears.
Bewails his fall.
There, as he weeps in bitter grief apart,
His Savior's look speaks comfort to his heart.
The lowly Magdalene
(Of penitents the queen)
Waits for the morn.
When in that cave so still
Her task she may fulfill
Of love forlorn;
And first to her Christ risen shall appear,
Though in a form unknown he draweth near.
While he who longed to die
With Christ on Calvary,
Whose love devout
His Master proved and tried
By heartfelt prayer denied,
Must wait in doubt ;
Eight days of solemn gloom in darkness past,
On trustful Thomas he will shine at last.
But lo, the Sabbath ends !
Nocturn with matins blends.
The morning breaks ;
The shadows flee away
Before the rising day,
And Christ awakes !
Angels proclaim the anthem far and near,
" Ye seek your risen Lord; he is not here."
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