Easter Morning, by Robert McIntyre

Easter Morning

The dawn of Easter morning! O the sad, sweet day,
When thro' the laughing lilies loving Mary went her way
To the place where He was buried, to weep beside His tomb,
Where the cedar and the willow tree were waving in the gloom,
And the myrtle and the almond tree were budding into bloom.
Upon her wistful forehead all the waking wonder shone
When she saw the gracious angel sitting on the guarded stone,
When she heard him softly say,
"Lo, your Master is not dead; He is risen, as He said, "
In the dawn of Easter morning. O the sad, sweet day!   O the dawn of Easter morning! O the sad, sweet day!
When Jesus conquered Death alone, and ended all his sway.
List! How Magdalene is calling all the weary world to her,
Where she holds the bruisé d cassia, the balsam and the myrrh,
And stands with gaze enraptured by the open sepulcher.
See the snowy linen folded, which he nevermore will need,
Hear the happy woman telling that "The Lord is risen indeed."
Now the shouting Christian may
Stand within the vault and sing, "O Death, where is thy sting?"
In the dawn of Easter morning. O the sad, sweet day!   O the dawn of Easter morning! O the sad, sweet day!
When we were all delivered from dominion of the clay.
Within that burial-garden how the heart grows calm;
How the bough of cypress changes into the branch of palm;
How the wailing requiem rises into the wedding psalm,
Because our great Emmanuel, the grave could not contain,
Comes back to be a comrade with his own elect again.
In the dusky sunrise gray
Looks and speech are just the same, calling Mary by her name
In the dawn of Easter morning. O the sad, sweet day!   O the dawn of Easter morning! O the sad, sweet day!
When the resurrection glory on the urn doth play.
"Let not your heart be troubled, your place I will prepare;
For you must be beside Me now, wherever I may fare.
Henceforward all My blessedness My bride will surely share."
O Savior, there is nothing in Thy happy heaven above
That we desire a portion in so much as in Thy love.
Often hast Thou heard us pray,
"Eloi, when all the race is run, welcome us with Thy 'Well done, '"
In the dawn of Easter morning. O the sad, sweet day!

poems.one - Robert McIntyre

Robert McIntyre