Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE DAY OF JOY, by LUCY LARCOM

Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

Rhyming Dictionary Search
THE DAY OF JOY, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: This is the gladness of our easter morning
Last Line: This is the glory of our easter day.
Subject(s): Easter; Holidays; The Resurrection

THIS is the gladness of our Easter morning --
That nothing now in all the world is dead,
The roadside dust is tinted with forewarning
Of heavenly verdure mortal feet shall tread.
New meanings each blue break of sky discloses;
New messages on all the winds are heard;
New fragrance haunts the lilies and the roses --
His life, His breath -- the Spirit and the word.

The flowers of spring are no vain decoration
Of earth's dead bosom; earth is all alive
In the awakening dawn of new creation,
Whence soul and body perfect strength derive.
The untainted health, the everlasting beauty!
Even frozen hearts the warm contagion feel
Of spiritual love and holy duty;
The sickliest plant Christ's living touch can heal.

This is the wonder of the Resurrection --
That things unvalued now reveal their worth
That every human longing and affection
Feels now the glow of its immortal birth.
Our common toil, the mutual hopes we cherish,
The friendly word, the homely help we give
Each other in His love's name, shall not perish;
No thought that lives in him shall cease to live.

We who are of the earth need not be earthly;
God made our nature like His own, divine;
Nothing but selfishness can be unworthy
Of His pure image meant through us to shine.
The death of deaths it is, ourself to smother
In our own pleasures, His dishonored gift;
And life -- eternal life -- to love each other;
Our souls with Christ in sacrifice to life.

This is the beauty of our Easter morning;
In Him humanity may now arise
Out of the grave of self, all baseness scorning --
The holy radiance of His glorious eyes
Illumines everywhere uplifted faces;
Touches the earthly with a heavenly glow;
And in that blessed light all human graces
Unto divine beatitudes must grow.

Feeding on husks no more, the wanderers gather
Around the hearthstone of the house above --
The Son has brought them home unto the Father;
His spirit in their hearts is peace and love.
Souls speak in the lost language of communion,
And angels echo back the words they say,
Earth is restored to heaven in deathless union --
This is the glory of our Easter day.

Other Poems of Interest...

Home: PoetryExplorer.net