'T IS Easter eve; the day is fading;
O Thou, with whom there is no death,
While twilight every path is shading,
A PRAYER is in my thoughts to-night
I hardly dare to say:
'Lord, put my wishes all to flight,
WHEN for me the silent oar
Parts the Silent River,
And I stand upon the shore
Of the strange Forever,
STILL must I climb, if I would rest:
The bird soars upward to his nest;
The young leaf on the treetop high
I do not own an inch of land,
But all I see is mine,—
The orchard and the mowing-fields,
The lawns and gardens fine.
THE scent of a blossom from Eden!
The flower was not given to me,
But it freshened my spirit forever,
RING, happy bells of Easter time!
The world is glad to hear your chime;
Across wide fields of melting snow
The winds of summer softly blow,
GIRD me with the strength of Thy steadfast hills,
The speed of Thy streams give me!
In the spirit that calms, with the life that thrills,
O LIFE, that breathest in all sweet things
That bud and bloom upon the earth,
That fillest the sky with songs and wings,
OPEN your heart as a flower to the light!
Darkness is passing; the Sun is in sight;
Morning with splendor is piercing life through,