ERE the Master came to claim His own, Ere the angel came to roll the stone, How many sad years did the world, forlorn, In patience wait for its Easter morn! I think that for ages in silence dumb The multitudes waited for Him to come, For years and years in the world's young life They waited for Him to still their strife. And then He came and they knew Him not! What a sorrowful tale was their sorry lot! No Gate of Hope would they recognize, The very light had blinded their eyes! No Easter had they but the silent tomb, Their Easter morn was a morn of gloom; And the hopes of years were turned to grief By the obstinate phantom of disbelief. Yet we who know Him not half so well Are happy of heart by the Easter bell, And our doubts of Him are ever belied By the full pure surge of the Easter-tide. It was written of old that He came to save, And He in his strength would conquer the grave; Now the centuries gone have witnessed the proof By the Easter-tides that the Word was Truth! Ten thousand bells shall ring in the day That marked the ending of Death's dread sway, And a whole world's songs for them shall atone Who knew Him not when He came to His own! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYPOCRISY by SAMUEL BUTLER (1612-1680) HIS CAVALIER by ROBERT HERRICK BRIDAL BALLAD by EDGAR ALLAN POE THE SECOND DAYES LAMENTATION OF THE AFFECTIONATE SHEPHEARD by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE GOLDEN LOCKS OF ANNA by ROBERT BURNS JERSEY SKIES by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |