Poem August 3, 1940 Issue

Resurrection

ANNA STANTON LAY

To mortal sense, fierce was the storm,
Black was the night, and cold the tomb
Wherein was laid the earthly form
Of him whose presence made each room
A court of heaven. They thought defeat
Was his, his prophecies a cheat.

Yet in that tomb, safe from his foes,
Jesus, with holy might, proved Life
Undying, false the fears, the woes
Of sense, futile all hateful strife:
Truth sees no tomb, Life knows no death,
Love ever guards—thus Spirit saith.

Though narrow, lonely, seems the room,
Yet now we stand on holy ground;
It is no prison cell nor tomb
Where thoughts of Love and Truth abound;
With humble hearts we now may hear
Angelic words, triumphant, clear:

In peace and quiet is your strength—
Fears vanish as Love's voice is heard—
Nor height nor depth nor breadth nor length
Can shut you from God's living Word:
Arise! from sin and death go free,
With Christ, Truth, dwell eternally.