EASTER-DAY.

LAD Easter morning came, and bright as glad:

For as the Feast, like sudden noontide, broke

Above the Cross, thus, from the brooding night Of howling storm, flashed forth the golden day. The ringers smote wild music from the bells. High in mid-air, from spire and turret pealing, Chiming and tolling, till the blue heavens, filled With legions of the Tone-World, seemed to sing

And shout of rapture overfull. I sought

The holy place, where unseen things of God Verge nearest to our darkened sphere-where

men

Hungry at heart and waiting for the Lord Taste evidence of Hope-substance of Faith, So sweet, that in the mystery they say

They find the Christ. As I drew near the

church

A throbbing undertone of organ sound

Breathed on me from the pile, as if the whole-
Nave, chancel, tower, and spire—had caught
The resonance within, and would both tell
And sing the story of the Changeless Faith.
Within the door, the font again gave welcome,
Garlanded and crowned with fairest flowers,
Censing the air with Spring-time ecstacy
Of odours :-odours-seraph sounds of praise—
And radiance trailing from the pictured panes-
(A thrilling sense of angels in the air!)
Love wreathed a glory from this mystic Trine
Of Beauty, for the holy place of God.
In the far Chancel, with fair cloth arrayed,
And glowing, golden vessels of the Feast,
The Altar stood, with sacred Monogram
Aflame. Camelia trees were there, and bloomed
In white, as if the birds of peace had found
A resting-place, and would soon rise and sing.
In the great window kindling in the East
Shone Mary's Son and Saviour—either side,
By twos, the Great Evangels; while the Dawn,
With stately step, asperged the quarried walls,
And surpliced priests, and the ingathering
throng

With splendors from the City of our God.

Confession made, and shriving words of Christ Opened my lips and eased my burdened heart For praise and then we sang of life, and Him Who feeds His children with it-heard the Word,

And made Te Deum till the walls did ring With answering echoes: then our hearts touched hands

In fellowship as large as Earth and Heaven
In the old, primal Creed; then turned to Christ
In prayer, as children asking drink and bread
At home; and I was heard while I besought.
And yet my wounded heart did make lament,
And bolder grew with grief, as Christ drew near.
O bitter grief, beyond the healing balm!
O bitter grief, when through the weary years
The heart bewails its dead; and waiting, faints
In fast, for feet that will not come again!
O bitter grief, when little faces flit
More dimly than before-dying again!
Until the heart cries out, O Lord, if Thou
Canst not give back to me my darling dead,
Let their dear faces fade no more away.

In faith, in tears, athirst for life and love,
I knelt before the Supper of the Lord.
Ah me! I knelt beside an open grave!
The while I kept the Rising of the Lord,

!

I kept the birth-day of my child in death!
O life in death! O death in life! Come, Christ,
Shine with Thy Presence on my sleeping
child!

Give me to see the vision of Thy Dead!

The first-born-bid her lead the other two! Thou hast them-show this tender grace today!

Thou art the Life-Thy pulses throb in mine: This only crumb from Thy full table, Lord!

I felt the stir of the invisible Ones
Who serve within the Mystery. Breathings
Of love unutterable coursed through my soul.

And Mary's Son, above me, seemed to say: "Who walk by sight, walk not with me this day;

Who feed on sense, must perish by the way.

'Thy babes are mine and thine—lament no more!

Their shining footsteps lead thee to my door. Son! look to me, and give Thy grieving o'er.

"They keep a better Easter, here, with meIf they have me, no other need can be: Only look up, and thou, at last, shalt see!'

O Living Bread! I feed on Thee alone!
O quickening Wine, I drink to thirst no more!
The WORD hath spoken and my heart is still!
The healing touch hath stayed my wasting
wound!

I, who was blind, do now begin to see!

Then broke the organ into jubilee!

And we who die, and they who cannot die
Again, sang: Glory be to God on High.
The kindling colours blazoned-" Easter-Day;'
And breathed the flowers-"this is Easter-
Day;"

And choral echoes whispered far away

""Tis Easter-Easter-day! 'tis Easter-Day!"