-
101 724
reference
collection
book
r ifnltfcnja t
FRONTISPIECE by Jcanncitc C. Shirk
ON- Jtolftap i
COMPILED BY
MILDRED P. HARRINGTON
JOSEPHINE H. THOMAS
,4 COMMITTEE OF THE CARNEGIE
LIBRARY SCHOOL ASSOCIATION
NEW YORK
THE H. W. WILSON COMPANY
1929
Published 1929
Second Printing
Iliird Printing 1938
Fourth Printing 1945
Fifth Printing 195O
Sixth Printing 1956
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 29-26163
PREFACE
In our library work with children it has been difficult to
find holiday poems, including the more modern poems, which
both have literary merit and are easily comprehensible to
children.
The present volume, compiled from the series of holiday
poetry booklets, is an attempt to meet this need.
The proceeds derived from the publication of both book
and booklets are used to increase the Student Loan Fund of
the Carnegie Library School Association.
We are most grateful to the authors and publishers who
have so generously permitted copyright material to be used,
to Miss Dorothy Grout, who has given so freely of her time
and effort and to Miss Elva S. Smith, former president of
the Association for her valued advice and help.
The members of the poetry committee, whose careful work
and interest in this undertaking have made the compilation pos-
sible, are as follows: Mary Wilkinson, Jasmine Britton,
Dorothy Grout, Grace Darling, Alice Stoeltzing and Dorothy
Hayes.
MILDRED P. HARRINGTON
Chairman of the Poetry Committee
Carnegie Library School Association
CONTENTS
FRONTISPIECE by Jeanncite C. Shirk
ABRAHAM LINCOLN IN POETRY
Abraham Lincoln A. 5, Ames . . . ^ 3
Abrakam Lincoln Samuel Valentine Cole . , . . 3
Abraham Lincoln Richard Henry Stoddard . . 5
Abraham Lincoln, the Master Thomas Curtis Clark 6
Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight. Vachel Lindsay 7
Cenotaph of Lincoln James T. McKay , . .' 8
From 4 The Gettysburg Ode" .... Bayard Taylor 9
The Hand of Lincoln Edmund Clarence St&dman . . 10
He Leads Us Still Arthur Cuiierman 12
A Hero Florence Earle Coates .... 13
His Face Florence Earle Coaies 14
Hush'd Be the Camps To-day Wali Whitman 16
Lincoln Anonymous 17
Lincoln George Henry Bo^er 18
Lincoln John Vance Cheney 19
Lincoln , . . . , Jane L. Hardy , 21
Lincoln Vachel Lindsay 21
Lincoln Jame* Whitcomb Riley .... 22
Lincoln Corinne Roosevelt Robinson . 23
Lincoln Leads Minna Irving 24
The Lincoln Statue W. F. Collins 25
Lincoln, the Man of the People .... Edwin Marfyham 26
The Man of Peace Bliss Carman 28
The Master Edwin Arlington Robinson . . 30
Nancy Hanks .Harriet Monroe 32
Captain! My Captain Wali Whitman 34
On a Bust of Lincoln Clinton S collar d 36
Our Martyr-chief James Russell Lowell 37
President Lincoln's Grave Caroline A* Mason ........ 38
To Borglum's Seated Statue of
Abraham Lincoln Charlotte B. Jordan 40
To the Memory of Abraham Lincoln . William Cullen Bryant .... 41
Tolling Lucy Larcom 42
Two Heroes Harriet Monroe , 43
Young Lincoln Edwin Marfyham 45
GEORGE WASHINGTON IN POETRY
At the Tomb of Washington Clinton Scollard 51
Epitaph on Washington Anonymous 52
George Washington Anonymous 53
vii
CONTENTS
George Washington John Hall Ingham . ... 55
Inscription at Mount Vernon Anonymous 56
A Man! Clinton Scollard 56
Mount Vernon, the Home of
Washington William Day 57
Old Song Written During Washing-
ton** Life Anonymous ; 58
The Ship of State Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 59
Tribute to Washington From a London Newspaper . 60
Two Heroes Harriet Monroe 61
Union and Liberty Oliver Wendell Holmes .... 63
Washington Lord Byron 65
Washington James Russell Lowell 65
Washington Ceraldine Meyrich 66
Washington Rev. Dem's O'Crowley .... 67
Washington John A. Prentice 68
Washington Mary Wingaie 68
Washington Monument by Night . . Carl Sandburg * 69
Washington's Birthday Arthur J. Burdick 71
Washington's Monument Anonymous 72
Washington's Tomb Ruih Lawrence 73
Washington's Vow John Creenleaf Whittier 74
Young Washington Arthur Guilerman ......... 75
EASTER IN POETRY
Afraid? Emily Dickinson 79
All things Bright and beautiful . . , . Cecif Frances Alexander 79
April and May Ralph Waldo Emerson .... 81
At Easter Tune Laura E. Richards 81
The Awakening Angela Morgan 82
Buttercups and Daisies Mary Howitt 83
Easter , . . . . Mary Carolyn Davies 85
Easter George Herbert 86
Easter John G. Neihardt 87
Easter Edwin L. Satin 88
An Easter Canticle Charles Hanson Townt 89
Easier Carol George Newell Lovejoy 90
An Easter Carol Christina C. Rossetti 91
An Easter Hymn Richard Le Gallienne 92
Easier Hymn Charles Wesley 94
Easter Morning Edmund Spenser 95
Easter Night Alice Meynell 96
Easter Song Mary A. Lathbury 96
Easter Week Charles Kingsley 97
The Elbdr George Herbert 98
Faith John Richard Moreland .... 99
The Glory of God in Creation .... Thomas Moore 100
viii
CONTENTS
God, Who Hath Made the Daisies . .. P. Hood idl
Holy, Holy, Holy Reginald Heber 103
Hymn to the Creation Joseph Addison 104
Joy, Shipmate, Joy! Walt Whitman 105
King Robert of Sicily Henry Wadsvorth Longfellow 105
The Last Violet Oliver Herford 1 14
The Lent Lily A. E. Housman 116
Loveliest of Trees A. E. Housman 117
The Majesty and Mercy of God Sir Robert Grant . . 117
May Is Building Her House . . . Richard Le Callienne 119
The Miracle L. H. Bailey 120
Nature's Creed Anonymous 120
Nature's Easter Music Lucy Larcom 121
On a Gloomy Easter Alice Freeman Palmer .... 123
Pippa's Song Robert Browning 1 24
Providence Reginald Heber . 125
Psalm XXIII The Bible 126
Psalm CIV Selected The Bible 127
Softly Through the Mellow Starlight .Anonymous 128
The Song of the Lilies Lucy Wheelock 129
A Song of Waking Katherine Lee Bates 130
Talking in Their Sleep Edith M. Thomas 1 32
A True Lent Robert Herrick 133
Twas at the Matin Hour Fourteenth Century Carol . . 135
Under the Leaves Albert Laighion 136
The Waking Year Emily Dickinson 137
Ye Heavens, Uplift Your Voice ..Fifteenth Century Carol 138
ARBOR DAY IN POETRY
A B Cs in Green Leonora Speyer 143
Appleseed John Lydia Maria Child 144
An Arbor Day Tree Anonymous 147
Be Deferent to Trees Mary Carolyn Davies 148
Beatus Vir Richard Le Callienne 149
Birch Trees John Richard Moreland 150
Child's Song in Spring E. Nesbit 150
Daphne , Thomas S. Jones, Jr. 151
Family Trees Douglas Malloch 152
The Fate of the Oak Barry Cornwall 154
The Fir-Tree Edith M. Thomas 155
Green Things Growing Dinah Maria Muloclf Crafy . 1 56
The Heart of the Tree Henry Cuyler Bunner 157
Hiawatha's Canoe: Selected Henry Wadsvorih Longfellow 159
Kinds of Trees to Plant: Selected . .Edmund Spenser . . . ., 163
Mine Host of "The Golden Apples" . Thomas Wesivood 164
The Oak JohnDryden 165
Oh, Fair to See Christina C. Rossetti 165
The Pine Augusta Webster 166
ix
CONTENTS
The Planting of the Apple-Tree William Cullen Bryant 166
Ploughman at the Plough Louis Colding , 168
The Poplars Theodosia Garrison 1 69
Poplars ^ Edvard Bliss Reed 170
Shade * Theodosia Garrison 171
Song Thomas Love Peacock . . . . 1 72
The Song of the Forest Ranger Herbert Baskford 173
The Spirit of the Birch Arthur Ketchum 1 75
Tapestry Trees William Morris , . * 1 76
"There Is Strength in the Soil" Arthur Stringer 1 77
Three Trees C. H. Crandall 178
Tis Merry in Greenwood Sir Walter Scott 180
The Tree Bjornstjerne Bjornson 181
The Tree Jones Very 182
Tree Birthdays ,<,.,.,. Mary Carolyn Davies 183
Tree Planting Anonymous ,...,,.., 1 83
Tree-planting Samuel Francis Smith 1 84
Trees BUss Carman . , 185
The Trees Samuel V&len&M. Cole 187
Trees . Sara Coleridge 189
Trees , Waller De La Mart 189
The Trees Lucy Larcom , 190
The Trees Christopher Morley 192
Under ths Greenwood Tnse William Shakespeare W
What Do We Plant When We Plant
the Tree Henrp Abbey 194
The Willows .Walter Prichard Eaton .... 195
Woodman, Spare That Tree George P. Morris 196
Woodnotes Selected Ralph Waldo Emerson 197
MOTHER'S DAY IN POETRY
Tbe Baby Ann Taylor 203
The Bird's Nest Elizabeth Turner 204
A Boy's Motfeer James Whitcomb Riley .... 205
Evening Song Cecil Frances Alexander ... 206
The Fairy-Bool: Norman Cale 208
Her Mother Alice Cary 209
Hi* Mother in Her Hood of Blue . .Lizette Woodworth Reese . . 209
How's My Boy? Sydney Dobell 211
Hie JuHiled Mother of Men Walt Whitman 213
If I Had But Two Little Wings ..Samuel Taylor Coleridge .. 213
Lines on Receiving His Mother's Pic-
ture: Selected WilUam Covpcr 214
Tke Little FJsh That Would Not Do
as It Was Bid Jane and Ann Taylor 215
Mater Amabilis Emma Lazarus 21 7
Maternity Jean Ingeloto 219
CONTENTS
The Mother Translated from the Chinese
by George Barrow 220
Mother , Theresa Helburn 221
Mother: From "Snowbound" John Creenleaf Whittier 222
The Mother in the House Herman Hagedorn 223
A Mother's Birthday Henry Van Dyke 224
The Mother's Hymn William Cullen Bryant 225
A Mother's Picture Edmund Clarence Stedman . . 226
My Mother Josephine Rice Crcehnan . . , . 227
My Mother Francis Ledwidge 228
My Mother Ann Taylor 229
My Song Ralindranaih Tagore 231
My Trust John Creenleaf Whittier .... 232
Our Mother . . . , Anonymous 232
Parenthood . John Farrar 233
A Prayer for a Sleeping Child Mary Carolyn Davies 233
A Song for My Mother Her Hands^nna Hampstead Branch . . 234
A Song for My Mother Her Stories Anna Hampstead Branch . . . 236
A Song for My Mother Her Words^nna Hampstead Branch . . 238
To My First Love, My Mother Christina C. Rossetli 239
To My Mother Thomas Moore 240
A Valentine to my Mother Christina G. Rossetli 241
The Voice Norman Gale 241
The Watcher Margaret Widdemcr 243
What Rules the World W. R. Wallace 244
When She a Maiden Slim Maurice Hewlett 244
Which Loved Her Best? , . . . .Anonymous 245
Wishing William Allingham 246
MEMORIAL DAY IN POETRY
The Anxious Dead John McCrae 251
The Armorer's Song Harry Bache Smith 252
A Ballad of Heroes Austin Dobson 253
Battle Hymn of the Republic Julia Ward Hove 254
The Battlefield , Emily Dickinson 256
Coronach Sir Walter Scott 256
The Day of Battle .' A. . Housman 258
Decorating the Soldiers' Graves Minot J. Savage 259
Decoration Thomas Wentvorlh Higginson 260
Decoration Day George Hudlut Barlour , . . 261
Decoration Day Julia Ward Ho&e 262
Decoration Day Henry Wadsvorth Longfellow 264
The Dug-Out Siegfried Sassoon 265
Flowers for the Brave Celia Thaxter 265
The Heroic Age Richard Watson Gilder ... 266
John Burns of Gettysburg Bret Harte 268
Killed at the Ford Henry Wadsvortfi Longfellow 272
A Lamentation , Thomas Campion 274
xi
CONTENTS
Let War's Tempests Cease Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 275
The March John C. Squire 276
Memorial Day Theodosia Garrison 277
Memorial Day Richard Watson Gilder .... 278
Memorial Day Annette Wynne 279
The Messages Wilfrid Wilson Gibson .... 280
Night at Gettysburg Don C Seitz 281
No More the Thunder of Cannon .Julia C. R Dorr 282
Ode for Decoration Day Hemy Peterson 283
Ode Recited at the Harvard Com-
memoration Selections James Russell Lowell 287
Our Nation Forever Wallace Bruce 289
Over Their Graves Henry /. Steward 290
Requiem , Joseph Lee 291
Requiem for a Young Soldier Florence Earle Coates 292
Requiescant Frederick George Scott . . , . 293
The Reveille Bret Harte 294
Roll-call Nathaniel Graham Shepherd . 295
Sheridan's Ride Thomas Buchanan Read . . . 297
The Sleep of the Brave William Collins 299
The Soldier's Grave Henry D. Muir 300
Song for Memorial Day Clinton Scollard 301
Spring in War-time , . . Sara Teasdale 303
Stanzas on Freedom James Russell Lowell 304
Taps Lizeite Woodworth Reese .. 305
The Troop of the Guard Hermann Hagedom 306
The Trumpet , Edward Thomas 308
Under the Stars Wallace Rice 309
Valley of the Shadow John Galsworthy 311
A War Song William Blake 311
THANKSGIVING IN POETRY
The Beautiful World W. L. Childress 315
A Child's Thought of Harvest Swan Coolidge 316
Th Child's World William Brighty Rands 317
The Com Song John Greenleaf Whittier . . 318
Every Day Thanksgiving Day Harriet Prescoti Spofford . 320
The Feast-time of the Year Anonymous 321
The First Thanksgiving Day AVce Williams Brotherton .. 322
Harvest Hymn John Greenleaf Whittier .... 325
Hymn Lucy Larcom 326
A Hymn of Thanksgiving Wilbur Dick Nesbit 327
The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers
in New England Felicia Hemans 329
Pilgrim Song Florence Earle Coates 331
The Pilgrims Came Annette Wynne 332
Psalm LXV-Seiected The Bible 333
Psalm XCV-Selected The Bible 334
xii
CONTENTS
Psalm C The Bible 334
Psalm CXXXVI-Selected The Bible 335
Psalm CXLVII-Selected The Bible 336
The Pumpkin John Greenleaf Whittier .... 336
Singing the Reapers Homeward ComeAnonymous 339
Song of the Harvest Henry Stevenson Washburn . 340
A Thanksgiving Lucy Larcom 341
Thanksgiving Day Robert Bridges , . 344
Thanksgiving Day . . . Lydia Maria Child 345
Thanksgiving Day Annette Wynne 347
The Thanksgiving in Boston Harbor . Hezeftah Bultenorth 347
A Thanksgiving to God for His Houseftofcert Hemck 350
That Things are No Worse, Sire Helen Hunt Jackson 352
CHRISTMAS IN POETRY
An Ancient Christmas Carol Anonymous 357
As Joseph Was A- Walking From the Cherry Tree Carol . 358
Aunt Mary: A Cornish Christmas
Chant Robert Stephen Ha*>ker .... 359
Boots and Saddles , Provencal Noel of Nicholas
Saboly 360
Bring a Torch, Jeannetle, Isabella! ..Provencal Noel of Nicholas
Saboly 362
Caiol William Canton 363
Carol Kenneth Crahame 364
Carol Langdon E. Mitchell 365
A Carol for Twelfth Day Old English Carol 366
Carol in Praise of the Holly and IvyFifteenth Century Carol .... 368
Carol of the Birds Bas~Quercy 369
Carol of the Russian Children Russian Folk Song 370
A Catch by the Hearth Anonymous 370
Ceremonies for Christmas Robert Herridf 371
A Child's Prayer Francis Thompson 372
A Child's Present to His Child-Saviorfloier/ HerricJ^ 374
Christmas Nahum Tate 375
A Christmas Carol Phillips Brooks 376
A Christmas Carol Gilbert K. Chesterton 377
Christmas Carol Thomas Helmore , 378
A Christmas Carol Josiah Gilbert Holland 380
A Christmas Carol Old English Carol 381
A Christmas Carol Christina G. Rossetti 381
A Christmas Carol Translated from the Neapoli-
tan 383
Chustmas Eve John Davidson 384
Christmas Eve Eugene Field 385
Christmas Eve Another Ceremony . .Robert Herric^ 386
Christinas Eve Another to the MaidsKofcert Herrick 387
Christmas Folksong Lizette Woodttorth Reese .. 387
xiii
CONTENTS
A Christmas Hymn Cecil Frances Alexander ... 388
Christmas in the Heart Anonymous 390
A Christmas Legend Frank Sidgvick 390
The Christmas Silence Margaret Deland 393
Christmas Song Lydia Avery Coonley Ward . 394
The Christmas Tree in the Nursery .Richard Watson Cilder 395
The Christmas Trees Mary F. Butts 397
Cradle Hymn Martin Luther 398
Feast o' St. Stephen Ruth Savyer 399
The First Christmas EmfUe Poulsson 399
From Far Away William Morris 400
God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen Dinah Maria Mulock Crafy . 402
The Golden Carol ..Old Carol 403
Good King Wenceslas ..Translated from the Latin by
/. M. Neale 40-1
Joseph, Jesus and Mary From a Gypsy Carol 406
The Least of Carols Sophie Jcwett 406
A Legend Tschaikovsky 408
Long, Long Ago Anonymous 409
Lordings, Listen to Our Lay Old Carol 410
March of m Three Kings Old Provencal Carol 410
Nativity Song Adapted from the Latin by
Sophie Jenett 412
The Neighbors of Bethlehem Thirteenth Century French ..413
New Prince, New Pomp Robert Southwell 414
Poor Richard's Almanac^,
Now Thrice Welcome Christmas 1695 415
O Little Town of Bethlehem Phillips Brooks 416
Old Christmas Old English Carol 418
Old Christmas Returned , . Old English Carol 420
Our Joyful Feast George Wither 421
The Shepherd Boys Provencal Noel of Nicholas
^ Saboly 421
The Shepherds Who Stayed Theodosia Garrison 423
The Shepherds Had An Angel ... .Christina G. Rossetti 424
Signs of Christmas itt
EASTER
Sky where the white clouds stand in prayer,
Luminous, lucent Easter sky!
Easter fields with their vivid flare
Of wind-tossed blossoms that die
Only to blossom again some day!
Make us remember we're that way,
Brave little blossoms, sweet and gay!
Make us remember we shall, too,
Know, as you know the sun and dew
85
OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Over again know all the sweet
Of being alive again, and meet
As you meet the friendly blossoms near,
Those who to us were near and dear.
Sky, with your Easter white and blue,
Teach us, like you, to pray!
Blossoms of Easter, make us, too,
As brave as you and as gay!
Mary Carolyn Davies
Included by permission of the author.
EASTER
I got me flowers to stiew Thy way,
I got me boughs off many a tree.
But Thou wast up at break of day
And broughtst Thy sweets along with Thee.
The Sun arising in the East,
Though he give light and th' East perfume,
If they should offer to contest
With Thy arising, they presume.
86
EASTER
Can there be any day but this,
Though many suns to shine endeavor?
We count three hundred, but we miss:
There is but one, and that one ever.
George Herbert
EASTER
Once more the Ancient Wonder
Brings back the goose and crane
Prophetic Sons of Thunder,
Apostles of the Rain.
In many a battling river
The broken gorges boom.
Behold the Mighty Giver
Emerges from the Tomb!
Now robins chant the story
Of how the wintery sward
Is litten with the glory
Of the Angel of the Lord,
His countenance is lightening,
And still his robe is snow.
As when the dawn was brightening
Two thousand years ago.
87
OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Q who can be a stranger
To what has come to pass?
The Pity of the Manger
Is mighty in the grass!
Undaunted by Decembers,
The sap is faithful yet,
The giving Earth remembers
And only men forget!
John C. Neihardt
Included by permission of the author and The Macmillan Company.
EASTER
The barrier stone has rolled away,
And loud the angels sing;
The Christ comes forth this blessed day
To reign, a deathless king.
For shall we not believe He lives
Through such awakening?
Behold, how God each April gives
The miracle of Spring.
Edwin L. Sabiri
88
EASTER
AN EASTER CANTICLE
In every trembling bud and bloom
That cleaves the earth, a flowery sword,
I see Thee come from out the tomb,
Thou risen Lord.
In every April wind that sings
Down lanes that make the heart rejoice
Yea, in the word the wood-thrush brings,
I hear Thy voice.
Lo ! every tulip is a cup
To hold Thy morning f s brimming wine
Drink, O my soul, the wonder up
Is it not Thine?
The great Lord God, invisible,
Hath roused to rapture the green grass;
Through sunlit mead and dew-drenched dell,-
I see Him pass.
His old immortal glory wakes
The rushing streams and emerald hills;
His ancient trumpet softly shakes
The daffodils.
89
OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Thou art not dead ! Thou art the whole
Of life that quickens in the sod;
Green April is Thy very soul,
Thou great Lord God.
Charles Hanson Towne
ncluded by permission of the author.
EASTER CAROL
O Earth! throughout thy borders
Re-don thy fairest dress;
And everywhere, O Nature!
Throb with new happiness;
Once more to new creation
Awake, and death gainsay,
For death is swallowed up of life,
And Christ is risen to-day!
Let peals of jubilation
Ring out in all the lands;
With hearts of deep elation
Let sea with sea clasp hands ;
Let one supreme Te Deum
Roll round the World's highway.
For death is swallowed up of life,
And Christ is risen to-day!
George Newell Lovejoy
From The Chautauquan, April 1902.
Included 1$ permission of the Chautauqua Press.
90
EASTER
AN EASTER CAROL
Spring bursts to-day,
For Christ is risen and all the earth's at play.
Flash forth, thou Sun,
The rain is over and gone, its work is done.
Winter is past,
Sweet Spring is come at last, is come at last.
Bud, Fig and Vine,
Bud, Olive, fat with fruit and oil and wine.
Break forth this morn
In roses, thou but yesterday a Thorn.
Uplift thy head,
O pure white Lily through the Winter dead.
Beside your dams
Leap and rejoice, you merry-making Lambs.
All Herds and Flocks
Rejoice, all Beasts of thickets and of rocks.
Sing, Creatures, sing,
Angels and Men and Birds and everything.
All notes of Doves
Fill all our world: this is the time of loves.
Christina C. Rossetti
From "Poems" fc$ Christina Rossetti.
Included by permission of The MacmUlan Company.
91
OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
AN EASTER HYMN
Spake the Lord Christ "I will arise:"
It seemed a saying void and vain
How shall a dead man rise again?
Vain as our tears, vain as our cries;
Not one of all the little band
That loved Him this might understand.
"I will arise," Lord Jesus said
Hearken, amid the morning dew,
Mary, a voice that calleth you !
Then Mary turned her golden head,
And lo! there shining at her side
Her Master they had crucified.
At dawn, to his dim sepulchre,
Mary, remembering that far day,
When at his feet the spikenard lay,
Came, bringing balm and spice and myrrh;
To her the grave had made reply :
"He is not here He cannot die.*'
/ Praetor and priest in vain conspire,
Jerusalem and Rome in vain
Torture the god with mortal pain,
To quench that seed of living fire;
. But light that had in heaven its birth
Can never be put out on earth*
92
EASTER
**I will arise" across the years,
Even as to Mary that grey morn,
To us that gentle voice is born:
"I will arise." He that hath ears
O ponder well this mystic word ;
Let not the Master speak unheard.
No soul descended deep in hell,
The child of sorrow, sin and death,
The Immortal Spirit suffereth
To see corruption; though it fell
From loftiest station in the skies,
It still to heaven again must arise.
No dream of faith, no seed of love,
No lonely action nobly done,
But is as stable as the sun,
And fed and watered from above;
From nether base to starry cope
Nature's two laws are Faith and Hope.
Safe in the care of heavenly powers,
The good we dreamed but might not do,
Lost beauty, magically new,
Shall spring as surely as the flowers.
When, mid the sobbing of the rain,
The heart of April beats again.
93
OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Celestial spirit that doth roll
The heart's sepulchral stone away,
Be this our resurrection day,
The singing Easter of the soul
O gentle Master of the Wise,
Teach us to say: "I will arise,"
Richard Le Callienne
Published 1$ permission of the author and The Woman's Home Com-
panion.
EASTER HYMN
Christ the Lord is risen to-day,
Sons of men and angels say:
Raise your joys and triumphs high,
Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply.
Love's redeeming work is done,
Fought the fight, the battle won;
Lo! our Sun's eclipse is o'er;
Lo! He sets in blood no more.
Vain the stone, the watch, the seal;
Christ hath burst the gates of hell!
Death in vain forbids His rise;
Christ hath opened Paradise!
94
EASTER
Lives again our glorious King:
Where, O Death, is now thy sting?
Once He died, our souls to save:
Where thy victory, O Grave?
Charles
EASTER MORNING
Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day
Didst make thy triumph over death and sin,
And, having harrowed hell, didst bring away
Captivity thence captive, us to win;
This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin,
And grant that we, for whom thou didst die,
Being with Thy dear blood clean washed from sin,
May live forever in felicity:
And that Thy love we weighing worthily
May likewise love Thee for the same again :
And for Thy sake, that all like dear didst buy,
With love may one another entertain.
So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought;
Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.
Edmund Spensei
95
OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
EASTER NIGHT
All night had shout of men and cry
Of woeful women filled His way;
Until that noon of sombre sky
On Friday, clamour and display
Smote Him; no solitude had He,
No silence, since Gethsemane.
Public was Death; but Power, but Might,
But Life again, but Victory,
Were hushed within the dead of night,
The shutter'd dark, the secrecy.
And all alone, alone, alone
He rose again behind the stone.
Alice Meynell
Included by permission of Wilfrid Mtynell.
EASTER SONG
Snowdrops, lift your timid heads,
All die earth is waking,
Field and forest, brown and dead,
Into life are waking;
Snowdrops, rise and tell the story
How He rose, the Lord of glory.
96
EASTER
Lilies! lilies! Easter calls,
Rise to meet the dawning
Of the blessed light that falls
Thro* the Easter morning;
Ring your bells and tell die story,
How He rose, the Lord of glory.
Waken, sleeping butterflies,
Burst your narrow prison;
Spread your golden wings and rise,
For the Lord is risen;
Spread your wings and tell -the story,
How He rose, the Lord of glory.
Mary A. Lathbury
EASTER WEEK
See the land, her Easter keeping,
Rises as her Maker rose.
Seeds, so long in darkness sleeping,
Burst at last from winter snows.
Earth with heaven above rejoices,
Fields and gardens hail the spring;
Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices,
While the wild birds build and sing.
97
OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
You to whom your Maker granted
Powers to those sweet birds unknown.
Use the craft by God implanted ;
Use the reason not your own.
Here, while heaven and earth rejoices,
Each his Easter tribute bring
Work of fingers, chant of voices,
Like the birds who build and sing.
Charles Kingsley
THE ELIXIR
Teach me, my God and King,
In all things Thee to see,
And what I do in anything,
To do it as for Thee.
All may of Thee partake:
Nothing can be so mean
Which with this tincture, for Thy sake,
Will not grow bright and clean.
A servant with this clause
Makes drudgery divine ;
Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws,
Makes that and the action fine.
98
EASTER
This is the famous stone
That turneth all to gold;
For that which God doth touch and own
Cannot for less be told.
George Herbert
FAITH
In every leaf that crowns the plain,
In every violet "neath the hill,
In every yellow daffodil. . . .
I see the risen Lord again!
In each arbutus flower I see
A faith that lived through frost and snow,
And in the birds that northward go,
A guiding hand's revealed to me.
Lo! winter from some dark abyss
Came forth to kill all growing things:
'Twas vain, spring rose on emerald wings,
Mothlike from her dead chrysalis.
Each germ within the tiny seed
Throws off the husk that to it clings,
And towards the sun it upward brings
New life to blossom to its need.
99
OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Ye hearts that mourn rise up and sing !
Death has no power to hold his prey,
The grave is only where we lay
The soul, for its eternal spring! . . .
In every leaf that crowns the plain,
In every violet 'neath the hill,
In every yellow daffodil. . . .
I see the risen Lord again!
John Richard Moreland
Included by permission of the author.
THE GLORY OF GOD IN CREATION
Thou art, O God, the life and light
Of all this wondrous world we see ;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
Are but reflections caught from Thee.
Where'er we turn, Thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine.
When day, with farewell beam, delays
Among the opening clouds of even,
And we can almost think we gaze
Through opening vistas into heaven,
Those hues that make the sun's decline
So soft, so radiant, Lord, are Thine.
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EASTER
When night, with wings of starry gloom,
O'ershadows all the earth and skies,
Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume
Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes,
That sacred gloom, those fires divine,
So grand, so countless, Lord, are Thine.
When youthful Spring around us breathes,
Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh,
And every flower that Summer wreathes
Is born beneath Thy kindling eye:
Where'er we turn, Thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine.
Thomas Moore
GOD, WHO HATH MADE THE DAISIES
God, who hath made the daisies
And ev'ry lovely thing,
He will accept our praises,
And hearken while we sing.
He says though we are simple,
Though ignorant we be,
"Suffer the little children,
And let them come to Me.**
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Though We are young and simple,
In praise we may be bold;
The children in the temple
He heard in days of old.
And if our hearts are humble,
He says to you and me,
"Suffer the little children,
And let them come to Me/*
He sees the bird that wingeth
Its way o*er earth and sky;
He hears the lark that singeth
Up in the heaven high;
But sees the hearts* low breathings,
And says (well pleased to see) ,
"Suffer the little children,
And let them come to Me."
Therefore we will come near Him,
And solemnly we'll sing;
No cause to shrink or fear Him,
WVll make our voices ring;
For in our temple speaking,
He says to yoii and me,
"Suffer the little children,
And let them come to Me/'
E. P. Hood
102
EASTER
HOLY, HOLY, HOLY
Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our songs shall rise to Thee;
Holy, holy, holy! merciful and mighty!
God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity!
Holy, holy, holy! all the saints adore Thee,
Casting down their golden crowns around the
glassy sea,
Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,
Who wert and art, and evermore shalt be!
Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide Thee,
Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not
see,
Only Thou art holy, there is none beside Thee,
Perfect in power, in love, in purity!
Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty!
All Thy works shall praise Thy name in earth and
sky and sea;
Holy, holy, holy! merciful and mighty!
God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity.
Reginald Heber
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
HYMN TO THE CREATION
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heaven, a shining frame,
Their great original proclaim;
TV unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up die wond'rous tale,
And nightly to the list'ning earth
Repeats the story of her birth;
Whilst all die stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn.
Confirm the tidings as they roll,.
And spread the news from pole to pole.
What though, in solemn silence, all
Move round the dark, terrestrial ball?
What though no real voice nor sound
Amid their radiant orbs be found?
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
Forever singing as they shine,
"The hand that made us is divine."
Joseph Addison
104
EASTER
JOY, SHIPMATE, JOY!
Joy, shipmate, joy!
(Pleased to my soul at death I cry)
Our life is closed, our life begins,
The long, long anchorage we leave,
The ship is clear at last, she leaps!
She swiftly courses from the shore,
Joy, shipmate, joy!
Walt Whitman
Included by permission of Doubleday, Page & Co.
KING ROBERT OF SICILY
Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane
And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine,
Appareled in magnificent attire
With retinue of many a knight and squire,
On St. John's eve, at vespers, proudly sat
And heard the priests chant the Magnificat.
And as he listened, o'er and o'er again
Repeated, like a burden or refrain,
He caught die words, "Deposuit potentes
De sede, et exaltavit humiles" ;
And slowly lifting up his kingly head.
He to a learned clerk beside him said,
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
"What mean these words?" The clerk made answer
meet,
"He has put down the mighty from their seat,
And has exalted them of low degree."
Thereat King Robert muttered scornfully,
" 'Tis well that such seditious words are sung
Only by priests, and in the Latin tongue;
For unto priests, and people be it known,
There is no power can push me from my throne/'
And leaning back he yawned and fell asleep,
Lulled by the chant monotonous and deep.
When he awoke, it was already night;
The church was empty, and there was no light,
Save where the lamps, that glimmered few and faint,
Lighted a little space before some saint.
He started from his seat and gazed around,
But saw no living thing and heard no sound.
He groped towards the door, but it was locked;
He cried aloud, and listened, and then knocked,
And uttered awful threatenings and complaints,
And imprecations upon men and saints.
The sounds re-echoed from the roof and walls
As if dead priests were laughing in their stalls.
At length the sexton, hearing from without
The tumult of the knocking and the shout,
And thinking thieves were in the house of prayer,
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EASTER
Came with his lantern, asking, "Who is there ?"
Half choked with rage, King Robert fiercely said,
"Open; 'tis I, the King! Art thou afraid?"
The frightened sexton, muttering, with a curse,
"This is some drunken vagabond, or worse!"
Turned the great key and flung the portal wide;
A man rushed by him at a single stride,
Haggard, half-naked, without hat or cloak,
Who neither turned, nor looked at him, nor spoke,
But leaped into the blackness of the night,
And vanished like a spectre from his sight
Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane
And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine,
Despoiled of his magnificient attire,
Bare-headed, breathless, and besprent with mire,
With sense of wrong and outrage desperate,
Strode on and thundered at the palace gate;
Rushed through the court-yard, thrusting in his rage
To right and left each seneschal and page,
And hurried up the broad and sounding stair,
His white face ghastly in the torches* glare.
From hall to hall he passed with breathless .speed;
Voices and cries he heard, but did not heed,
Until at last he reached the banquet-room,
Blazing with light, and breathing with perfume.
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
There on the dais sat another king,
Wearing his robes, his crown, his signet ring
King Robert's self in features, form, and height,
But all transfigured with angelic light!
It was an Angel; and his presence there
With a divine effulgence filled the air,
An exaltation, piercing the disguise,
Though none the hidden Angel recognize.
A moment speechless, motionless, amazed,
The throneless monarch on the Angel gazed,
Who met his look of anger and surprise
With the divine compassion of his eyes!
Then said, "Who art thou, and why com'st thou
here?"
To which King Robert answered with a sneer,
"I am the King, and come to claim my own
From an imposter, who usurps my throne!'*
And suddenly, at these audacious words,
Up sprang the angry guests, and drew their swords;
The Angel answered, with unruffled brow,
"Nay, not the King, but the King's Jester; thou
Henceforth shalt wear the bells and scalloped cape,
And for thy counselor shalt lead an ape;
Thou shalt obey my servants when they call,
And wait upon my henchmen in the hallP*
Deaf to King Robert's threats and cries and prayers,
They thrust him from the hall and down the stairs;
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EASTER
A group of tittering pages ran before,
And they opened wide the folding door,
His heart failed, for he heard, with strange alarms,
The boisterous laughter of the men-at-arms,
And all the vaulted chamber roar and ring
With the mock plaudits of "Long live the King!*'
Next morning, waking with the day's first beam,
He said within himself, "It was a dream!**
But the straw rustled as he turned his head;
There were the cap and bells beside his bed;
Around him rose the bare, discolored walls,
Close by, the steeds were champing in their stalls,
And in the corner, a revolting shape,
Shivering and chattering, sat the wretched ape.
It was no dream; the world he loved so much
Had turned to dust and ashes at his touch!
Days came and went; and now returned again
To Sicily the old Saturnian reign;
Under the Angel's governance benign
The happy island danced with corn and wine,
And deep within the mountain's burning breast
Enceladus, the giant, was at rest
Meanwhile King Robert yielded to his fate,
Sullen and silent and disconsolate.
Dressed in the motley garb that Jesters wear,
With look bewildered, and a vacant stare,
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Close shaven above the ears, as monks are shorn,
By courtiers mocked, by pages laughed to scorn,
His only friend the ape, his only food
What others left he still was unsubdued,
And when the Angel met him on his way,
And half in earnest, half in jest, would say,
Sternly, though tenderly, that he might feel
The velvet scabbard held a sword of steel,
**Art thou the King?" the passion of his woe
Burst from him in resistless overflow,
And lifting high his forehead, he would fling
The haughty answer back, "I am, I am the King !"
Almost three years were ended, when there came
Ambassadors of great repute and name
From Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine,
Unto King Robert, saying that Pope Urbane
By letter summoned them forthwith to come
On Holy Thursday to his city of Rome,
The Angel with great joy received his guests,
And gave them presents of embroidered vests,
And velvet mantles with rich ermine lined,
And rings and jewels of the rarest kind.
Then he departed with them o'er the sea
Into the lovely land of Italy,
Whose loveliness was more resplendent made
By the; mere passing of that cavalcade
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EASTER
With plumes, and cloaks, and housings, and the stir
Of jeweled bridle and of golden spur.
And lo! among the menials, in mock state,
Upon a piebald steed, with shambling gait,
His cloak of foxtails flapping in the wind,
Die solemn ape demurely perched behind,
King Robert rode, making huge merriment
In all the country towns through which they went
The Pope received them with great pomp, and blare
Of bannered trumpets, on St. Peter's square,
Giving his benediction and embrace,
Fervent, and full of apostolic grace.
While with congratulations and with prayers
He entertained the Angel unawares,
Robert, the Jester, bursting through the crowd,
Into their presence rushed, and cried aloud:
"I am the King! Look and behold in me
Robert, your brother, King of Sicily!
This man, who wears my semblance to your eyes,
Is an impostor in a king's disguise.
Do you not know me? Does no voice within
Answer my cry, and say we are akin?"
The Pope in silence, but with troubled mien,
Gazed at the Angel's countenance serene;
The Emperor, laughing, said, "It is strange sport
To keep a madman for thy Fool at court !"
Ill
OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
And the poor, baffled Jester, in disgrace
Was hustled back among the populace.
In solemn state the Holy Week went by,
And Easter Sunday gleamed upon the sky;
The presence of the Angel, with its light,
Before the sun rose, made the city bright,
And with new fervor filled the hearts of men,
Who felt that Christ indeed had risen again.
Even the Jester, on his bed of straw,
With haggard eyes the unwonted splendor saw;
He felt within a power unfelt before,
And kneeling humbly on his chamber floor,
He heard the rushing garments of the Lord
Sweep through the silent air, ascending heavenward.
And now the. visit ending, and once more
Valmond returning to the Danube's shore,
Homeward the Angel journeyed, and again
The land was made resplendent with his train,
Flashing along the towns of Italy
Unto Salerno, and from thence by sea.
And when once more within Palermo's wall,
And, seated on the throne in his great hall,
He heard the Angelas from convent towers,
As if the better world conversed with ours,
He beckoned to King Robert to draw nigher,
And with a gesture bade the rest retire,
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EASTER
And when they were alone, the Angel said
"Art thou the King?*' Then, bowing down his head,
King Robert crossed both hands upon his breast,
And meekly answered him, "Thou knowest best!
My sins as scarlet are; let me go hence,
And in some cloister's school of penitence,
Across those stones that pave the way to heaven,
Walk barefoot, till my guilty soul be shriven!"
The Angel smiled, and from his radiant face
A holy light illumined all the place,
And through the open window, loud and clear,
They heard the monks chant in the chapel near,
Above the stir and tumult of the street,
"He has put down the mighty from their seat-,
And has exalted them of low degree!"
And through the chant a second melody
Rose like the throbbing of a single string:
"I am an Angel, and thou art the King!"
King Robert, who was standing near the throne,
Lifted his eyes, and lo! he was alone!
But all appareled as in days of old,
With ermined mantle and with cloth of gold;
And when his courtiers came they found him there,
Kneeling upon the floor, absorbed in silent prayer.
Henry Wadworth Longfellow
Included by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company.
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
THE LAST VIOLET
The gray old Owl could scarce believe his eyes,
The Squirrel dropped a chestnut in surprise,
The Raven croaked, the Bullfrog stared outright,
The Bunny blinked to see so strange a sight.
A Violet, loveliest of Flowerkind,
Shivering and shaking in the autumn wind.
Her head was bowed; faintly they heard her cry,
"Oh, why has Summer left me here to die?*'
"You happy birds ! The Dear God gave you wings
To follow Summer in her wanderings,
While I who came too late to see her face
Shall soon be turned to dust and leave no trace!
"And yet deep in my root this thought I keep,
That Winter may be nothing but a Sleep.
If it be true God marks a petal's fall,
How can it be that winter ends it all?
"The Caterpillar told me a strange thing,
How that he dreamed about a Future Spring
When 'neath a sapphire sky, through scented bowers
He'll flutter on bright wings 'mid rainbow flowers."
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EASTER
The Raven cawed, "Oh, Violet, if I
Were you I wouldn't tell the Butterfly.
I really think the blow would almost kill her.
To be descended from a Caterpillar!'*
The Squirrel flicked his tail and arched his back;
Here was a nut too hard for him to crack.
"Good-by, my dear, if I don't stir about,
I sha'n't have nuts to last the winter out"
Die Gray Owl shook his head. "I know more thing;-
My dear, than any bird that flies on wings,
But there are wonders in the sea and land
Even the wisest Owl can't understand."
A silence fell. 'Twas broken by the Frog:
"I am descended from a Polliwog,
About the lowest thing in Nature's scale,
An armless, legless creature 'with a tail!
"Yet who in beauty with a Frog can vie?
And Beauty, we are told, can never die.
You, too, have Beauty, so sleep well, my dear,
And happy dreams, we'll meet again next year!"
Oliver Herford
Included by permission of the author and the Curtis Publishing Company.
115
OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
THE LENT LILY
'Tis spring; come out to ramble
The hilly brakes around,
For under thorn and bramble
About the hollow ground
The primroses are found.
And there's the windflower chilly
With all the winds at play,
And there's the Lenten lily
That has not long to stay
And dies on Easter day.
And since till girls go maying
You find the primrose still,
And find the windflower playing
With every wind at will,
But not the daffodil.
Bring baskets now, and sally
Upon the spring's array,
And bear from hill and valley
The daffodil away
That dies on Easter day.
A. E. Housman
Included by permission of the author.
116
EASTER
LOVELIEST OF TREES
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
A. E* Housman
Included ijj permission of the author.
THE MAJESTY AND MERCY OF GOD
Oh, worship the King all glorious above;
Oh, gratefully sing His power and His love;
Our shield and defender, the Ancient of Days
Pavilioned in splendor and girded with praise.
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Oh, tell of His might, Oh, sing of His grace,
Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space;
His chariots of wrath the deep thunder clouds form,
And dark is His path on the wings of the storm.
The earth, with its store of wonders untold,
Almighty, Thy power hath founded of old,
Hath established it fast by a changeless decree,
And round it hath cast, like a mantle, the sea.
Thy bountiful care what tongue can recite?
It breathes in the air, it shines in the light,
It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain,
And sweetly distills in the dew and the rain.
Frail children of dust and feeble as frail
In thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail.
Thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end,
Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer and Friend.
Oh, measureless Might, ineffable Love,
While angels delight to hymn Thee above,
The humbler creation, though feeble their lays,
With true adoration shall lisp to Thy praise.
Sir Robert Grant
118
EASTER
MAY IS BUILDING HER HOUSE
May is building her house. With apple blooms
She is roofing over the glimmering rooms:
Of the oak and the beech hath she builded its beams,
And, spinning all day at her secret looms,
With arras of leaves each wind-swayed wall
She pictureth over, and peopleth it all
With echoes and dreams,
And singing of streams.
May is building her house of petal and blade:
Of the roots of the oak is the flooring made,
With a carpet of mosses and lichen and clover,
Each small miracle over and over,
And tender, travelling green things strayed.
Her windows the morning and evening star,
And her rustling doorways, ever ajar
With the coming and going
Of fair things blowing,
The thresholds of the four winds are.
May is building her house. From the dust of things
She is making the songs and the flowers and the wings :
From October's tossed and trodden gold
She is making the young year out of the old:
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Yea! out of winter's flying sleet
She is making all the summer sweet,
And the brown leaves spurned of November's feel
She is changing back again to spring's.
Richard Le Gallienne
Included ly permission of the author.
THE MIRACLE
Yesterday the twig was brown and bare;
Today the glint of green is there;
Tomorrow will be leaflets spare;
I know no thing so wondrous fair,
No miracle so strangely rare.
I wonder what will next be there!
L. H. Bailey
Included ly permission of the author.
NATURE'S CREED
I believe in the brook as it wanders
From hillside into glade;
I believe in the breeze as it whispers
When evening's shadows fade.
120
EASTER
I believe in the roar of the river
As it dashes from high cascade;
I believe in the cry of the tempest
'Mid the thunder's cannonade.
I believe in the light of shining stars,
I believe in the sun and the moon;
I believe in the flash of lightning,
I believe in the night-bird's croon.
I believe in the faith of die flowers,
I believe in the rock and sod,
For in all of these appeareth clear
The handiwork of God.
Anonymous
NATURE'S EASTER MUSIC
The flowers from the earth have arisen,
They are singing their Easter-song;
Up the valleys and over the hillsides
They come, an unnumbered throng.
Oh, listen! The wild flowers are singing
Their beautiful song without words!
They are pouring the soul of their music
Through the voices of happy birds.
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Every flower to a bird has confided
The joy of its blossoming birth
The wonders of its resurrection
From its grave, the frozen earth.
For you, chirp the wren and the sparrow,
Little Eyebright, Anemone pale !
Gay Columbine, orioles are chanting
Your trumpet-note, loud on the gale.
The Buttercup's thanks for the sunshine
The gold finch's twitter reveals;
And the Violet trills, through the bluebird,
Of the heaven that within her she feels.
The song-sparrow's exquisite warble
Is born in the heart of the Rose
Of the wild-rose, shut in its calyx,
Afraid of belated snows.
And the melody of the wood-thrush
Floats up from the nameless and shy
White blossoms that stay in the cloister
Of pine-forests, dim and high.
The dust of the roadside is vocal:
There is music from every clod;
Bird and breeze are the wild-flowers* angels,
Their messages bearing to God.
122
EASTER
"We arise and we praise Him together!*'
With a flutter of petals and wings,
The anthem of spirits immortal
Rings back from created things.
And nothing is left wholly speechless:
For the dumbest life that we know
May utter itself through another,
And double its gladness so.
Lucy Larcom
From "Poems" by Lucy Larcom.
Included by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company*
ON A GLOOMY EASTER
I hear the robins singing in the ram.
The longed-for Spring is hushed so drearily
That hungry lips cry often wearily,
"Oh, if the blessed sun would shine again!"
I hear the robins singing in the rain.
The misty world lies waiting for the dawn;
The wind sobs at my window and is gone,
And in the silence come old throbs of pain.
But still the robins sing on in the rain,
Not waiting for die morning sun to break,
Nor listening for the violets to wake,
Nor fearing lest the snow may fall again.
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
My heart sings with the robins in the rain,
For I remember it is Easter morn,
And life and love and peace are all new born,
And joy has triumphed over loss and pain.
Sing on, brave robins, sing on in the rain !
You know behind the clouds the sun must shine,
You know that death means only life divine
And all our losses turn to heavenly gain.
I lie and listen to you in the rain.
Better than Easter bells that do not cease,
Your message from the heart of God's great peace,
And to his arms I turn and sleep again.
Alice Freeman Palmer
Included by permission of George //. Palmer.
PIPPA'S SONG
The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hillside's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in His heaven
All's right with the world!
Robert Brotoning
124
EASTER
PROVIDENCE
Lo, the lilies of the field,
How their leaves instruction yield!
Hark to Nature's lesson given
By the blessed birds of heaven!
Every bush and tufted tree
\Varbles sweet philosophy:
Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow;
God provideth for the morrow.
Say, with richer crimson glows
The kingly mantle than the rose?
Say, have kings more wholesome fare
Than we citizens of air?
Barns nor hoarded grain have we,
Yet we carol merrily*
Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow;
God provideth for the morrow.
One there lives, whose guardian eye
Guides our humble destiny;
One there lives, who, Lord of all.
Keeps our feathers lest they fall.
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Pass we blithely then the time,
Fearless of the snare and lime,
Free from doubt and faithless sorrow:
God provideth for the morrow.
Reginald Heber
PSALM XXIII
The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
He leadeth me beside still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
He guideth me in paths of righteousness for his
name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death
I will fear no evil;
For Thou art with me :
Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me :
Thou preparest a table before me
In the presence of mine enemies:
Thou anointest my head with oil:
My cup runneth over.
126
EASTER
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the
days of my life:
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
The Bible
PSALM CIV Selected
Bless the Lord, O my soul.
O Lord my God, Thou art very great;
Thou art clothed with honour and majesty:
Who coverest Thyself with light as with a garment;
Who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain;
Who layeth the beams of His chambers in the
waters;
Who maketh the clouds His chariot;
Who walketh upon the wings of the wind;
Who maketh winds His messengers ;
His ministers a flaming fire.
Who laid the foundations of the earth,
That it should not be moved forever,
Thou coverest it with the deep as with a vesture * r
The waters stood above the mountains.
At Thy rebuke they fled;
At the voice of Thy thunder they hasted away;
They went up by the mountains, they went down
by the valleys,
Unto the place which Thou hadst founded for
them.
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OUR HOLIDAYS IN POETRY
Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over;
That they turn not again to cover the earth.
He sendeth forth springs into the valleys;
They run among the mountains:
They give drink to every beast of the field;
The wild asses quench their thirst.
By them the fowl of heaven have their habitation,
They sing among the branches.
He watereth the mountains from His chambers :
The earth is satisfied with the fruit of Thy works,
He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle,
And herb for the service of man.
O Lord, how manifold are, Thy works!
In wisdom hast Thou made them all.
The Bible
SOFTLY THROUGH THE MELLOW
STARLIGHT
Softly through the mellow starlight
Steals a strain of silver song:
Lo the echoing hills proclaim it,
Waft the glad refrain a-long.
Glory, glory, Christ is risen!
Whisp
