Poem April 4, 1942 Issue

Resurrection Song

LEETHA JOURNEY HOFELLER

Beneath the darkness of the trees
The plaintive moaning of the breeze
Was hushed; the stars withdrawn.
Only the halting, sandaled tread
Of those who thought to greet their dead
Disturbed the breaking dawn.

Adown the rocky path they came—
Two women (Mary was the name
Of both), who gently bore
A gift of spices, hoping they
Might touch the form of him who lay
Behind the sealèd door.

But as they came they paused in awe,
As in that morning hour they saw
The lambent flame of day
Light up the darkness and the gloom
Of an unsealed, unguarded tomb—
The stone was rolled away!

Then through the oleaster trees,
A song of hope swept on the breeze
In moted, pale sunshine.
Mists broke that moments since were gray;
A hymn came forth at dawning day
From out of Palestine—

A hymn that all mankind will know,
That in each heart must dwell and grow,
To each one must belong.
There is no death! Love's way is sure!
Beyond the tomb it will endure,
A resurrection song.

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