“Because I live, ye shall live also.”
Calmly the Paschal moonlight now is sleeping
On mossy hillock and on headstone grey,
Where still our Mother holds in faithful keeping
Such as, while living, in her dear arms lay.
Ah! loving and beloved, we know ye rest,
E’en in the grave, upon her hallow’d breast.
Where is the cumbrous robe-the flesh-the matter
Which held the spirit in such painful thrall?
A little dust that scarce a breath would scatter,
Darkness, and void, and silence-this seems all.
Yet somewhere, safe, the waiting body lies,
While the freed spirit is in Paradise.
Ah! in that day, when earth is all refinèd
From death and sin, the darkness and the stain;
When Eden’s perfect beauty is enshrinèd
In unmarred purity and light again;
Transfigured, and “exceeding white as snow”-
But still that body-it will rise, we know.
The self-same lips that hymn’d the Easter story
With heart of Easter gladness, here, may sing
The song of angels, in the angels’ glory,
Around the throne of our Almighty King.
The same feet, which this ancient pavement trod,
May walk for aye the temple-courts of God.
O blessed day, which saw the Saviour risen!
Which told to trembling man that wondrous news-
“The grave is not thy body’s endless prison,
Thy soul no more in vain for pardon sues.
From Adam’s curse, by Christ’s death, thou art free-
The Lord accepts this sacrifice for thee.”
“Peace be with you”-by Him those words were spoken
After the glorious victory was won-
After the angel gave that blessed token
To her whose favour’d lips had called him “Son.”
Ah! where were peace, if every trembling breath
Strengthen’d the fetters of an endless death?
Where were the peace, if that dark cloud of mourning
From Calvary’s hill had never pass’d away?
If our deep night had never known the dawning
Of that mysterious Resurrection-day?
O Christ our Lord! Thou didst indeed release
Thy sinful children, and didst give them peace.
And now we know that Thou art throned for ever,
True God, and yet true man, in heaven above;
That now no power our life from Thine can sever,
That naught shall rob us of Thy gift of love;
That Thou, within the veil, dost intercede
For all who suffer and for all in need.
That Thou art with us here, too, in our sorrow-
With us to help in every time of strife,
Dost give to each dark day its joyous morrow,
Dost make us strong with Thine own love and life.
And we may love, and we may come to Thee
In heaven, and share Thy great felicity!
Ay, when the grass upon our grave is sighing
In the cool wind and Easter moonlight fair,
The mortal dust, beneath the violets lying,
Shall rest in hope and rest in safety there,
Till Thou shalt come with Thy celestial train,
And our bright spirit take its own again.
“After Thy likeness,” in its sweet perfection,
Shall we awake in that eternal day;
All-save the sin-shall have its resurrection,
Clothed in Thy glorious immortality.
And we shall stand Thy radiant throne beside,
Blessed for evermore, and-satisfied!
A few random poems:
- Song—Stay my Charmer by Robert Burns
- Miss Brown by Samuel Stephen Wakdok
- Vellen O’ The Tree by William Barnes
- A Child’s Evening Prayer by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
- Robert Burns: A Fiddler In The North:
- Mr. Eliot’s Sunday Morning Service by T. S. Eliot
- “`Shepherd swains that feed your flocks” poem – Alfred Austin
- Rubber Souls poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Illusion of Time by Ndue Ukaj
- A Birthday Present poem – Alfred Austin
- Hemlock Furrows
- A reason for you by Pritha halder
- Computer Cookies: Are They Good or Bad?
- Poem65
- Before a Midnight Breaks in Storm by Rudyard Kipling
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Et Le Marbre Creuse… by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Eating Poetry by Mark Strand
- Does Our Spirit Fly Away by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep by Mary Frye
- Disingenuousness by Mark R Slaughter
- Days Are Gone by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Dans les filets de midi by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Courtship by Mark Strand
- Coming To This by Mark Strand
- Coming to Terms by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Collateral Damage by Martina Reisz Newberry
- Collage by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Chronicles by Mark Olynyk
- Ce N’est Jamais Le Même Jardin by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- C’est la nuit aveugle by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Books by Mark Olynyk
- Awaken by Mark Miller
- Avec seulement du noir by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Attente by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- At This Very Moment by Mary TallMountain
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Ada Cambridge (1844 – 1926), also known as Ada Cross, was an English-born Australian author and poetess. She wrote more than 25 works of fiction, three volumes of poetry and two autobiographical works.