Thine Easter Day

 Thine Easter Day

by Mary Lowe Dickinson

Within thy heart is there an opened tomb?
Have God's strong angels rolled the stone
away?
Rises thy dead self from its bonds of clay?
Breaks Heaven's sweet light across the dark and
gloom?
Then is this day in truth thine Easter day!

If broken down are stony gates of pride,
If shrouding bands of earth are torn away,
If sin and wrath and scorn in thee have died,
Mourn not the past. The folded shroud beside
Angels will watch; - it is thine Easter day.

Rise, new-born soul, and put thine armor on;
Clasp round thy breast the garment of the light;
Gird up thy loins for battle. In the fight
He leads who upward from our sight has gone;
It is His day; there's no more death nor night,

No dark, no hurt, no more sharp shame nor loss;
All buried, hidden 'neath the grave's dark sod;
All ways forgotten, save the road He trod;
All burdens naught in sight of His - the cross;
All joy, alive and safe with Christ in God!