[Republished by permission.]

Easter Morn

This poem was later republished in Poems: Po. 30-31

Gently thou beckonest from the giant hills,     And new-born beauty in the emerald sky,And wakening murmurs from the drowsy rills,     O gladsome dayspring! reft of mortal sigh—To glorify all time—eternity—With thy still fathomless Christ-majesty.

Brightly thou gildest gladdened joy, dear God!     Give risen power to prayer; fan Thou the flameOf might with right; and, midst the rod,     And stern, dark shadow cast on Thy blest name,Lift Thou a patient love above earth's ire,Piercing the clouds with its triumphal spire.

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March 27, 1902
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