Ferchance another, in his might,
With burning words shall come,
And lead repentant Israel forth
To mourn above his tomb.
Perchance his rising will be there
Where we with him shall rise,
To meet the Father's smile of love
In yonder holy skies!
But now, the night in watching spent,
How glorious breaks the day!
The sisters hasten to the tomb,
The last sad rites to pay;
And lo! our brethren's scattered band
Are gathering mournfully,
All here except that sacred form
We never more may see!
Ar early morn before the Saviour's tomb
The holy women wept. The conscious world Shook with an earthquake, and amid the gloom
An angel form appeared, and instant hurled
The mighty stone away. Immortal bloom
Was round about him, and as lightning shone
His eyes and polished brow. The soldiers, come
To guard the sacred sepulchre, fell down,
Like dead men to the earth, o'ercome with fear.
Then spoke the angel messenger: "I know
Ye seek the Christ; fear not, he is not here,
For he is risen, as he promised,— lo!
I've told you, and he goes to Galilee;
There once again the Saviour ye shall see."
It happened on a solemn eventide,
Soon after He that was our Surety died,
Two bosom friends, each pensively inclined,
The scene of all those sorrows left behind,
Sought their own village, busied as they went
In musings worthy of the great event:
They spake of him they loved, of him whose life,
Though blameless, had incurred perpetual strife,
Whose deeds had left, in spite of hostile arts,
A deep memorial graven on their hearts.
A recollection, like a vein of ore,
The farther traced, enriched them still the more;
They thought him, and they justly thought him,
Sent to do more than he appeared to have done,-
To exalt a people, and to place them high
Above all else, and wondered he should die.
Ere yet they brought their journey to an end,
A stranger joined them, courteous as a friend,
And asked them, with a kind, engaging air,
What their affliction was, and begged a share.
Informed, he gathered up the broken thread,
And, truth and wisdom gracing all he said,
Explained, illustrated, and searched so well
The tender theme on which they chose to dwell,
That, reaching home, "The night,” they said, "is
near;
We must not now be parted, sojourn here."
The new acquaintance soon become a guest,
And, made so welcome at their simple feast,
He blest the bread, but vanished at the word,
And left them both exclaiming, ""Twas the Lord!
Did not our hearts feel all he deigned to say?
Did they not burn within us by the way?"
WHY is thy face so lit with smiles,
Mother of Jesus, why?
And wherefore is thy beaming look
So fixed upon the sky?
From out thine overflowing eyes
Bright lights of gladness part,
As though some gushing fount of joy
Had broken in thy heart.
His rising form on Olivet
A summer's shadow cast;
The branches of the hoary trees
Drooped as the shadow passed.
The silver cloud hath sailed away,
The skies are blue and free;
The road that vision took is now
Sunshine and vacancy.
The feet which thou hast kissed so oft,
Those living feet, are gone;
Mother! thou canst but stoop and kiss
Their print upon the stone.
Yes! he hath left thee, mother dear! His throne is far above;
How canst thou be so full of joy
When thou hast lost thy Love?
O surely earth's poor sunshine no To thee mere gloom appears, When he is gone who was its light For three and thirty years.
Why do not thy sweet hands detain
His feet upon their way?
O, why doth not the mother speak,
And bid her Son to stay?
Ah, no! thy love is rightful love,
From all self-seeking free;
The change that is such gain to him
Can be no loss to thee!
'Tis sweet to feel our Saviour's love, To feel his presence near;
Yet loyal love his glory holds
A thousand times more dear.
Ah! never is our love so pure
As when refined by pain,
Or when God's glory upon earth
Finds in our loss its gain!
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