Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AN EASTER SONG, TO ROSEMARY, AET. 10, by A. L. MACKENZIE JR.


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AN EASTER SONG, TO ROSEMARY, AET. 10, by                    
First Line: Mine is the gift and you the giver
Last Line: And we'll play in the halls of paradise.
Alternate Author Name(s): Mackenzie, Archibald L., Jr.
Subject(s): Easter; Heaven; Holidays; Religion; The Resurrection; Paradise; Theology


MINE is the gift and you the giver
But swift has flowed the winding river
Of time since we filled a distant day
With riotous laughter and noisy play,
And the gift has come like a flower of Spring
After winter—for your remembering.

In years, in years, when I am old,
And you are rich in youth's bright gold,
Your Easter-bird will sing his part,
And a wreath of smiles shall crown my heart.
Never forgotten though never known
By a child that the wayward wind had blown
Into my life for a life, or a day,
And bade me to turn again and play.
An angel plucked thee from a rose,
And where I go that memory goes,
Wherever I dream amidst this strife,
Or linger beside the stream of life,
A child and a man in dreams shall arise,
And play like the children of Paradise.

Oh fair, do you know what your gift has done,
That the glory of day is the flaming sun,
That the glory of life is love and bliss,
And the tired heart is seeking this?

You have loved my laughter and my play
But time will erase that all some day,
But wherever I go I must be true
For ever your face is gazing through
The glorious past, and watching lest
I should play false to an angel's hest.

So Child of Spring, Oh Child of Spring,
You have heard what your bird has made me sing,
Oh his voice was sweet, and his voice was feat,
And the days of the past that have been so fleet
Have fallen back and before my eyes
I saw thine innocence arise,
And smiled as I had not smiled for long
When I heard your birdie's Easter song.

In years, in years, when I am old,
And you are rich in youth's bright gold,
May your laughter be ever as bright and gay
And as sweet as it was when we played one day,
May your heart be the heart of an angel child
As it was on that day when heaven smiled,
This is my gift, Oh fair, to you,
The dreamer has given,—and dreams come true.

Last, when the sun is sinking, cold,
And the earth is dying, grown too old,
I will wait for you, child, in the azure skies,
And we'll play in the halls of Paradise.





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