OH, rare as the splendor of lilies, And sweet as the violet's breath, Comes the jubilant morning of Easter, The triumph of life over death; And fresh from the earth's quickened bosom Full baskets of flowers we bring, And scatter their satin soft petals To carpet a path for our King. In the countless green blades of the meadow, The sheen of the daffodil's gold, In the tremulous blue on the mountains, The opaline mist on the wold, In the tinkle of brooks through the pasture, The river's strong sweep to the sea, Are signs of the day that is hasting In gladness to you and to me. Oh, dawn in thy splendor of lilies, Thy fluttering violet breath, Oh, jubilant morning of Easter, Thou triumph of life over death! Then fresh from the earth's quickened bosom Full baskets of flowers we bring, And scatter their satin soft petals To carpet a path for our King. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH IN THE KITCHEN by THOMAS HOOD VERSES WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF TIGHE'S 'PSYCHE' by BERNARD BARTON WISCONSIN by CORA BLAKESLEE BEEBE TO W.A. AND H.H. ON THEIR DEPARTURE TO EUROPE by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE LINES WRITTEN IN ROUSSEAU'S LETTERS OF AN ITALIAN NUN. by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |