For Easter-Tide, by Mary Dow Brine

For Easter-Tide

The shadows of winter, so chill and so gray,
Have passed from the meadows and hill-tops away:
There's a shine in the skies
Born of Spring's merry eyes,
And the heart of the Earth groweth softer each day.   See, how she releases from fetter and chain
Her treasures which spring into freedom again,
Till with beauty and bloom,
And with sweetest perfume,
Is filled every hill-side and meadow and lane.   But fairest of all things that blossom and grow,
Sweet as the summer, and pure as the snow,
Is the lily that tells,
Like the glad Easter bells,
Once more the sweet story which all hearts should know.   Bloom out, fragrant lilies, bloom brightly and fair,
Breathe out your pure breath on the soft balmy air;
Fling your banners so white
Gaily out to the light,
For past is the lenten of sorrow and care.   For now with the Spring-time the Easter is born;
Out of darkness and night springs the glad, welcome dawn.
And Easter bells ringing,
Their Easter songs singing,
With loud jubilates hail Spring's sunny morn.

poems.one - Mary Dow Brine

Mary Dow Brine