Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CHRISTUS TRIUMPHANS: 2. MORS VICTA, by CONDE BENOIST PALLEN


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CHRISTUS TRIUMPHANS: 2. MORS VICTA, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Babes now may smile into thy sunless eye
Last Line: Within thy futile hands his winding-sheet.


Babes now may smile into thy sunless eye
And fear thee not, prone in thy kindred dust;
No longer reck we thine insatiate lust
Of this our crumbling brief mortality.
Time is our bound no more; this narrow sky
Metes not our vision; vaster is our trust
Than all the regions of thy moth and rust,
Since passing now we know we do not die.

For risen is our Christ, and with Him we;
And prostrate thou beside His open grave,
O Ancient Victor in thy first defeat
And everlasting! Smiling now we see
Thou art but shadow with a broken glaive,
Within thy futile hands His winding-sheet.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net