Poem August 21, 1948 Issue

LAZARUS

Daisy L. Whittaker

What is this place, how came I here,
And when? I must have deeply slept.
And now I feel bound hand and foot.
My face is wound around! I must have been
Called dead, and this the tomb!

Something has wakened me, a vibrant sound,
As if a huge stone had been rolled,
And now faint rays of light pierce through
The gloom, and to my wavering senses
Comes a voice. It is the Master's voice,
"Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me,"
And then, compelling words, "Lazarus, come forth."

Dear friend and Lord, I will obey, but how,
Enshrouded as I am, and tightly bound?
But now a quickening warmth flows all around;
I rise, uplifted by an unseen power, and walk.
And in the unaccustomed light of day
I stand before them all.
"Loose him, and let him go." he said,
And loving hands spring to the task.