"Why weepest thou?"

It is a shattering thing to see our joy,
Our fairest earthly hope, lie dashed and dead;
To stand beside the sepulcher and weep,
And feel the baffled weariness of grief.
Yet through this vale of sorrow as we pass
We may, like Mary Magdalene of old,
Recall the voice of Truth, and turn ourselves,
And pausing, strive to answer that demand,
"Why weepest thou?" For deeply there abides
In all our hearts a sweet and certain sense
That weeping is no part of God's intent.
And as we turn, we too may recognize
The Christ that Mary saw. Still may we say
With her, Where is he? Not again to look
For Life in matter, where no Life can be.

What was it then the Master sought of her?
O touch me not! Seek not to know me more
As matter. But at last see me at-one
With the eternal Father of us all.
And with this recognition there will come
A glad awakening to endless Life,
To infinite and all-including Love,
That leaves no room for aught but happiness
For children of our Father-Mother God.

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