Easter by A. Irvine Innes

The Lord Over All...

 Easter by A. Irvine Innes

That Jesus lived, that Jesus died,
The ancient stories tell;
With words of wisdom, love, and truth,
That he could speak so well;
And all so great his work for man,
I hail him, brave and free.
The highest of heroic souls
Who lived and died for me.

That Jesus rose, that Jesus reigns.
The hearts that love him know;
They feel Him guide and strengthen them.
As on through life they go.
Rejoicing in His leadership,
The heavenward way I see,
And shall not stray if I can say.
He rose and reigns in me.

Easter

Purple Passion Cross.

 

Easter by Richard Watson Gilder

The Lord is risen indeed,
He is here for your love, for your need
Not in the grave, nor the sky,
But here where men live and die;
And true the word that was said:
''Why seek ye the living among the dead?"

Wherever are tears and sighs,
Wherever are children's eyes.
Where man calls man his brother.
And loves as himself another,
Christ lives ! The angels said :
"Why seek ye the living among the dead?"

The Basket of The Day

Pysanka Egg for Easter

The Basket of The Day by Priscilla Leonard

Into the basket of thy day
Put each thing good and each thing gay
That thou canst find along thy way.

Neglect no joy, however small,
And it shall verily befall
Thy day can scarcely hold them all.

Within the basket of thy day
Let nothing evil find its way.
And let no frets and worries stay.

So shall each day be brave and fair.
Holding of joy its happy share.
And finding blessings everywhere.

The Paschal New-Moon

THE PASCHAL NEW-MOON

1.
WELCOME thou little bow of light,
Faint gleaming in the Western height
O'er Day's decline!
Thou, to the busy world of men,
Art but the month begun again;
But to this eye of mine
Lighted by Faith's diviner ken,
A season and a sign.

2.
Welcome, reflected in the rill,
Thine image on the waters, chill
From melting snows:
But brighter, in the depths serene,
Of my glad soul, thy sacred sheen
The Church's index shows;
Regent of holy-tides, and Queen
Of Easter's dawn and close.

3.
Thou hast been waited for: the lore
Of holy sages, long before
Hath marked thy day:
For with thy heavenly march sublime,
The Paschal-eve and Paschal-prime
One Lord, one law, obey;
The Church hath calendar'd thy time,
And traced thy starry way.

4.
And key-note of her Easter-song,
Is thy sweet tune, thy path along
In yon blue deep:
We watch thy crescent, till its rim
Is filled with glory to the brim,
And still our fast we keep;
Then, tide-like, swells our Easter-hymn,
Round the whole earth to sweep.

5.
Thou bringest cheer; thou endest days
Of fast with feast, of plaint with praise,
Of rue with balm.
Beauty for ashes thou dost bring;
The oil of joy for sorrowing;
For grief thou bringest calm;
Thou changes! tears to triumphing,
And Litany to Psalm.

6.
The bow of Joseph, thou! Thy light
Reminds me of the Hebrew's right
And Egypt's wrong;
Reminds me of Mosaic priests,
Their hyssop-branch, their bleeding beasts,
The prophet's goodly throng;
Their bitter herbs, unleavened feasts,
And hallelujah-song:

7.
Reminds me of that night of gloom;
The Twelve, the One, the upper-room;
The Bread and Wine:
Of Olivet remindeth me,
Of Kedron and Gethsemane;
Of Thee, Redeemer mine!
Thy cross, Thy cries, Thy victory,
Stupendous love divine.

8.
O Paschal moon, to wax and wane,
Though short thy date, how wide thy reign
Afar and near.
Thou art the Church's harvest-moon:
She sows in tears, but reapeth, soon,
A sheaf for every tear.
Shine on! We catch thy heavenly tune,
And shout the harvest-cheer.

Proem

To Mary And Elizabeth, In Paradise

Proem

1.

THE rainbow oft, on tears of April-tide,
In the sweet week of Easter, we behold;
Its bow of beauty, like the Crucified
Bending from heaven, all nature to enfold
In Love's embrace. Then from that throne of
gold,
'Mid iris-lustres, in the highest sphere,
Seems to bend down its arch of emerolde;
And Paradise, it seemeth very near,
As if the dwellers there perchance our sighs
might hear.

2.
Sweet sisters, in repose ye wear new names,
Yet let me dream ye hearken. Once, in time,
Ye were my muses, and ev'n more than fame's
I courted your applause, in youth's glad prime,
When oft ye listened to my boyish rhyme
With eyes that shone, as now they shine in
bliss.
Ah, borne too early to abodes sublime,
Fain would I know ye take it not amiss
Though angels' songs ye hear to list a lay like
this.

3.
Ye cannot hear my later songs, alas !
Ye dearest ones that deign'd to praise my first :
So grieved the Weimar poet, in the glass
Of memory gazing on fair forms that nurst
His young adventure, ere its blossoms burst
In fancy's flowers and fragrance. Such my
thought
When for these songs, my last perchance my
worst,
I coveted your ear. Yet are they fraught
With His dear Name of Names, who our redemp-
tion bought.

4.
We grew together, lov'd by one whose pride
Watched o'er the budding of your loveliness ;
Nor knew we, for too soon, alas ! ye died,
All that he wrought our tender years to
bless,
Mingling wise counsel with his fond caress.
Wisdom and wit were his, and nature gave
His manly heart a maiden's tenderness;
And Christian hope adorns his lowly grave,
Where, on the field he fell, Christ's soldier, true
and brave.


5.
Nor less, while your sweet life was link'd with
mine,
I shared her love, who o'er your cradle bent
And trained your earliest thought to thoughts
divine:
For oft to me her kindly care was lent
In words of cheer, with gentle warning blent,
When to the poet's shell I tuned my youth.
She loved all arts the soul that ornament,
And wing'd her nestlings, like young birds for-
sooth,
To soar aloft betimes and bask in light and truth.

6.
We parted, where the snow-peaks all aglow
Shone like an opal, and the setting sun
Flamed o'er the Pyrenees, in pleasant Pau,
Along the vale where restless Gave doth run :
And as we gazed, each an enraptured one,
Tvvas well we heard no voices, save our own ;
For seem'd our life beginning when 'twas
done;
And with that sunset, oh ! forever flown
Are joys so long we knew, and hopes no longer
known.

7.
Yet may I glean a moral from that day
Of parting, and its light o'er mount and glen,
For in the Sun's own clime, the poets say
He reigns at sunset, wears no crown till then.
So goes the adage, too, of meaner men ;
The end crowns labor. Welcome life's soft
eve
Who sings the Resurrection cries Amen,
As lengthening shadows mark the hour to leave
This life's deceitful scene, for scenes that ne'er
deceive.

8.
Ev'n as a bird forgets its wonted note
When death o'ershades its bower, and comes
no more
The smile that seemed upon its song to dote,
So when ye slept, my listless hand gave o'er
And lost its cunning; for I grieved heart-sore,
Tuneless my shell and unfulfilled my dream.
Now, faith reproacheth that I thus forbore;
Wake, languid shell nor moan, by Babel's stream;
Wake, from the willows wake, to Faith's trans-
porting theme.

9.
Yes, wake my soul, in swan-like notes to sing
Of that blest home, where, nevermore to die,
To them that slept comes Life's eternal spring,
Where Love enthron'd all human tears shall
dry,
Hearts claim their kin and brightens eye to eye.
Sweet sisters, ye are safe. For me, how rife
Perils of conflict, ev'n as years draw nigh
That bring the grateful furlough after strife,
And shines our even-star, the dawn of deathless
life. 

Easter Day by May Riley Smith

Easter Day

by May Riley Smith

O sad, sad soul, fling wide your doors,

And make your windows curtainless!

Strew odors on your silent floors,

And all your walls with lilies dress!

Throw open every sombre place;

Roll every hindering stone away!

Let Easter sunshine gild your face,

And bless you with its warmth to-day!

Let friends renew each by-gone hour,

Let children fling the world a kiss:

And every hand tie in some flower,

To crown a day so good as this!

And whether skies are sad or clear,

We'll give the day to joy and song:

For since the Christ is surely here,

All things are right, and naught is wrong!

Dawn

Dawn

by F. P. Carrigan

Look up to where the hills

are flushed

With dawn's red pencilings

Look up to where an angel goes

On silver-flashing wings;

Look up to where the lark of morn

Is soaring whilst he sings.

Look up! the clouds of yesterday

Have vanished with the night;

Like some sweet dream that

follows toil

The present greets the sight;

Look up! the dawn of dawns has come

In majesty and might.

Our Egg Tree in 2016

In 2016, the branches of an old fire bush were all that I had to work with.

I used some heavy stones to support these branches and also added a few bird's nests.

Here is the finished display, but it was never entirely finished. Apparently old fire bush limbs are not
 particularly strong! So the egg tree kept wilting over and eggs dropped daily.

Here is a good shot of the tree prior to any catastrophes!

This bunny was doomed and he didn't even know it. But such is the way with bunnies.

The White Easter

I remember this particular Easter as "White Easter" because it was the year that all of the flowers used to decorate the house were white. There were white lilies, white hydrangea, and even white iris had blossomed very early in the garden.

My husband and children had purchased the flowers earlier than usual, so, by the time
Easter rolled around, some of the petals were not as crisp.

Above is the Holy Week Devotional from that year.

I displayed a few of my older porcelain pieces that are white.

These white lilies bloomed early that Easter.

Here are the gorgeous hydrangea that I received a week prior to Easter that year.

close-up of the hydrangea in a polka-dot pitcher.

Easter Jonquils from 2014

My children decorated our home for Easter very early in the morning. This is one of our
family traditions. 

Jonquils or daffodils are some of their favorite flowers.

Jonquils are some of the very first flowers to blossom in the early spring. Most of our neighbors
 grow them beneath their shrubs and in planting beds around their homes.

My girls decorated the center of our Easter table with graphic postcards, white candles, large shells and chocolates.

Before plates, silverware, and goblets are added to the table, a runner is arranged down the
center of the table.

More close-ups of daffodils.

My Children's Easter Decorations from 2017

Coral colored floral bouquet with baby's breath. Speckled lavender, white and yellow Easter
 eggs, on top of a pale yellow table cloth.

The Easter cake decorated with just bit of splatter, edible Easter grass and chocolate eggs.

A close-up of the Easter basket, bisque porcelain egg box and milk glass vase.

The girls used a bit of butterfly figured wrapping paper to create a table runner.

Close-up photo of our Easter flowers.

A fake feathered chic and speckled eggs resting in pink and lavender Easter grass.

More Spring flowers at the guest tables.

"He Is Risen" Easter, strawberry baskets loaded with candy eggs and chocolate shaped carrots.

Vintage Digital Papers in Shades of Green

       Visitors here may craft many lovely cards, scrapbook pages and other paper creations from the following digital printed papers. I have restored five green designs including all sorts of floral and fauna motifs from 1953. Enjoy! For personal use only.

"Field of Flowers" digital paper

Sampler for pinning only.

Visitors here may craft many lovely cards, scrapbook pages and other paper creations from the following digital printed papers. I designed five color variations from an vintage print of flowers. Enjoy! For personal use only.

"Field of Flowers" in green.

"Field of Flowers" in lavender.

"Field of Flowers" in mango.

"Field of Flowers" in raspberry.

"Field of Flowers" in teal.

Easter-Tide

Easter-Tide

by Mary Lowe Dickinson

"Life for us is in His dying !" 

So our humbled souls keep crying;
While the Lenten tears fall faster
At the grave that shrouds the Master,
Till within that gloomy garden
Shines His presence and His pardon -
Glimpse of Easter glory giving -
Then, " Our life is in His living!"

While He, patient, waits the voicing
Of our triumph and rejoicing;
Filled with our own hearts' devices,
Still we bring our burial spices.
Yet the Love whose taking hallows
Our poor gifts of myrrh and aloes,
Rainbows e'en our tears, and raises
Broken, trembling prayers to praises.

Watcher where His grave glooms darken,
Lift thy shadowed soul, and harken!
Hear the strong, triumphant singing
Of the risen Christ, loud ringing
In glad anthems from the portals
Of the home of the Immortals!
" Sealed no longer death's dark prison -
Christ, the Conqueror, is risen!" 

Tarry not to place thy finger
In the wounds where nail-prints linger;
Leave the linen clothes that bound Him;
Sing, with Mary, "I have found Him!"
Be thy mighty love the token
That for thee His heart was broken.
Whom the living Christ hath shriven.
Knows, e'en here, the peace of Heaven. 

Death in Christ is dawning gladness;

Life in Christ is robbed of sadness;

Faith in Christ that will not falter

Crowns with Easter bloom His altar,

Decks His shrine in sweetness vernal,

Lives with Christ the life eternal.

Tells in song and chime and story,

All a risen Savior's glory.

• The Tears of Lent
• From Tears To Laughter

The Crescent And The Cross

THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS

BY THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH

Kind was my friend who, in the Eastern land,

Remembered me with such a gracious hand,

And sent this Moorish Crescent, which has been

Worn on the haughty bosom of a queen.

No more it sinks and rises in unrest

To the soft music of her heathen breast;

No barbarous chief shall bow before it more,

No turban'd slave shall envy and adore.

I place beside this relic of the Sun

A Cross of cedar brought from Lebanon,

Once borne, perchance, by some pale monk who trod

The desert to Jerusalem - and his God !

Here do they lie, two symbols of two creeds,

Each meaning something to our human needs;

Both stained with blood, and sacred made by faith,

By tears and prayers, and martyrdom and death.

That for the Moslem is, but this for me!

The waning Crescent lacks divinity:

It gives me dreams of battles, and the woes

Of women shut in dim seraglios.

But when this Cross of simple wood I see,

The Star of Bethlehem shines again for me,

And glorious visions break upon my gloom -

The patient Christ, and Mary at the tomb.

• ihopeministries - مَمَرّ
• Jesus calling Muslims from the passage to the garden of paradise.

The Easter Message

THE EASTER MESSAGE
BY CHARLES E. HESSELGRAVE

       Less than a century ago there were growing up in some of the cultured Christian homes of New England many children who later realized with regret that during their childhood days they had never known the symbolism or ever heard the name of Easter. Yet no more significant, spontaneous, or universally attractive festival has ever been instituted than that which celebrates the return of spring, the budding of leaves and flowers, and the triumphant hope that eternally beckons forward the human race.

"See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone."
Song of Solomon 2:11

       Older than Christianity and deeply rooted in the love of life itself, the spirit of Easter finds its most perfect expression in the Resurrection story of Jesus, There is, indeed, good cheer in the sight of flowers lifting their faces once more toward the sunlight, after the frosts and storms of winter have spent their force. The swelling seeds and changing tints of green give promise of the coming harvests and assure us of nature's ready response to our physical needs. The songs of the birds and the humming of the bees remind us of the rising tide of life that surrounds us and through countless channels is rushing onward with the pulse beat of recurring years. In all this stir of creative energy, this bursting of winter's fetters and the renewal of life's struggle for undisputed supremacy, we feel a kindling interest and secret joy, which carry us outside the old limitations and broaden the horizons of our purposes and hopes.

       But did the springtime come and go with no other message of inspiration, the world of mankind would grow old and weary and discouraged with its toil and disappointment, its wasting wars and ceaseless oppressions, its heroic attempts and saddening failures, and the oft recurring sight of its shining ideals cast to the earth and trampled upon by the gross feet of selfishness and indifference. Humanity knows but too well its own weakness and defects. Memory as well as science reminds us that one spring is like another, that man's life too is but a coming and a going, as the budding spring bursts into summer and comes at last to rest beneath winter's snow. But Easter adds the everlasting crown to man's hope and inspiration in the Resurrection story. Therein we pass from intimations of nature into the realm of human struggle and aspiration where the organizing forces of life surge to and fro with tragic consequence and man more often questions the worth of the final result.

       Back to the Gospel source go those whose faith in human possibilities and courage for unmeasured tasks must needs be renewed in some lifegiving stream. Not only in the buds and blossoms may we see the victory of life, but also in the story of Calvary and the Garden, where we find goodness and righteousness eternally triumphant over villainy and injustice, non-resistence over aggression, humility over pride, holiness over sin, love over hate. We are assured that though evil may hold the reins for a season, dominion and power belong ultimately to justice and right. However complete may be the temporary defeat of truth, error shall not always abide.

       Easter proclaims that man shall overcome all his foes, including death itself. His pathway may lead him through the sorrows of Gethsemane, the pain and darkness of Calvary, nevertheless his winter of distress will yet turn to the spring of delight, defeat will be forgotten in the joy of final victory, and the life of the spirit will rise in glory from the shadows of the grave.

• God's Life-Giving Waters 
• Streams of Water In The Desert 
• What gives you life?
• Stream, flood and spring

The Soul Does Not Sleep.

       I cannot agree with some people, that Paul has been sleeping in the grave, and is still there, after the storms of eighteen hundred years. I cannot believe that he who loved the Master, who had such a burning zeal for Him, has been separated from Him in an unconscious state, "Father, I will that they also, whom Thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which Thou has given me." This is Christ's prayer. Moody

Coloring page of Christ In Glory

Description of Coloring Page:  from a Belgian MS, four gospel symbols: the winged man, an eagle, a winged lion and a winged ox. The blessing of Jesus, second person of the Holy Trinity makes his sign with two fingers lifted, seated in the throne room of Heaven

• Learn to draw, in just three steps, the hidden nests of Easter! 

Don't forget to drag the png. or jpg into a Word Document and enlarge the image as much as possible before printing it folks. If you have a question about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located directly below this post and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I can.

Color The Passion Flower

Description of Coloring Page:  Passiflora, known also as the passion flowers or passion vines, is a genus of about 550 species of flowering plants, the type genus of the family Passifloraceae.They are mostly tendril-bearing vines, with some being shrubs or trees. They can be woody or herbaceous. Passion flowers produce regular and usually showy flowers with a distinctive corona.

       The flower was named after the Passion of Christ by Catholic priests during the 15th Century, The five sepals and five petals symbolize the 10 apostles faithful to Christ during his persecution (holy week) and the corona filament represent the crown of thorns that Jesus wore as he hung on the cross.

A photograph of a passion flower, most are purple to blue in color.

• Color a Passion Flower combined with scripture
• Complex mandala design with a passionflower from Cynthia Emerlye 
• Passionflower (Passiflora caerulea) - free sample page from Dover 
• The carrot-feasters of our children's Easter paint and play
  

Don't forget to drag the png. or jpg into a Word Document and enlarge the image as much as possible before printing it folks. If you have a question about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located directly below this post and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I can.

Heart's Flower

"Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.
Praise the Lord." Psalms 150:6

Heart's Flower

by Marion Mosbie

There grew a little flower once

That blossomed in a day;

Some said it would ever bloom,

And some, 'twould fade away.

Some said it was happiness,

And some said it was Spring,

Some said it was grief and tears

And many such a thing.

But still the little flower bloomed

And still it lived and throve,

Men do call it "Summer Growth,"

But angels call it "Love."

• Prayer for Inner Healing
• How Prayer Can Change a Man's Heart

An Easter Offering

AN EASTER OFFERING

Ada Stewart Shelton

"Neither will I offer unto the Lord my God that which doth cost me nothing.'"

Within a crowded dwelling-place,
Climbing its narrow stair,
A little maid is toiling slow,
Who in her hand doth bear
A jug of water, which she guards
And holds with anxious care.

Slowly she climbs the stairway dim,
So narrow, steep, and high,
To where her little window looks
Out on a patch of sky;
And o'er a flower upon its ledge
She bends with loving eye.

The only treasure that is hers!
She dreams of it by night,
Guards it by day; the blue eyes watch
Its opening to the light.
Was ever lily seen before
So pure, so fair, so white?

Soon, very soon, is drawing near
The blessed Easter Day,
When from a grateful, loving heart
We give our best away.
What offering could the dear child make?
She ponders day by day.

Such scanty earnings naught could yield,
From them she fears to take ;
But there upon the window-ledge-
Oh! can she, can she make
Such sacrifice, and give her flower
For Easter - and His sake ?

The glad-voiced bells are chiming clear,
The dim-lit church is sweet
With font and chancel filled with flowers,
This Easter morn to greet,
When up the silent aisle there comes
A child with faltering feet.

Softly the notes from organ grand
Are stealing through the air;
Beneath the Altar's gleaming cross
She lays the lily fair,
And then all timidly she kneels,
And clasps her hands in prayer.
 

'Tis all I have," she murmurs low,
"Dear Lord, to give to Thee,
And so I bring this flower I love.
An offering from me;
For on this holy Easter Day
Thy child I pray to be."

Amid the throng at service hour,
In anthem, chant, and hymn,
One sweet voice rang, until it made
The older eyes grow dim;
They did not know what filled her heart
With gladness to the brim.

The best that it was hers to give,
That she had given away;
Not "that which cost her nothing," but
What nearest her heart lay.
Lord, grant that we may also give
Our best on Easter Day.

Easter Song

Easter Song

by Louisa Parsons Hopkins

THE song of the sap
From its mother's lap
Springing to welcome the Easter Day;
The song of the wood
That groweth good
With the sap that riseth and will not stay;

Clear harmonies
Of the fluted trees, -
The organ-pipes of the bird and bee ;
The voice that wells
From the leaflet-cells, -
A hidden murmur of melody!

The opening sheath
Of the willow's wreath;
Chorus of birds, high carolling;
The cymballed psalm
Of the air's soft palm
Closing after the cleaving wing;

The patter of showers,
The waving flowers,
The symphony of the south wind free;
The vibrant harp
Of the ice-clad scarp,
Struck to the chord of the sounding sea;

The whir of wings,
The bubbling springs,
The bursting ice and the melting snow;
The rapid's roar
And the rippling shore,
The unchained brooks and the rivers' flow;

The nestling broods,
The interludes
Of chirp and trill, of coo and call;
The loosening hold
Of the leaf-bud's fold,
And the resurrection of each and all!

Let the paean rise
In the eastern skies,
While planets sing on their mystic ways;
With heart and voice
Earth and heaven rejoice,
And the song of life be a song of praise!

With Palm Branches

With Palm Branches

by Lucy Larcom

MY soul hastens forth with hosannas,
To wave for the Victor her palm;
Every hope presses forward to meet Him,
Every thought rises up with a psalm.

The stones of the roadside sing praises;
Praise ripples the brook by the way;
The dumb heart of Nature rejoices;
Even silence is vocal to-day.

He goeth to cruel betrayal, -
The thorns and the spear-thrust to meet:
He refuseth no drop of death's anguish, -
The bitterness Love shall make sweet.

We would taste Thy cup with Thee, O Master!
We would share in Thy life, through Thy death!
For Thy sacrifice makes us immortal,
And we live but in breathing Thy breath.

Ride onward, O King of the lowly,
And trample our pride in Thy path!
Let us follow Thee, asking no honor
Save the blessing humility hath!

Ride on, and release us from evil!
Ride on, and redeem us from sin!
Every gate of our being flies open:
Ride on, to Thy Kingdom within!

Thine Easter Day

Restored die cut of kissing children and pansies.

 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!

Easter Day

Easter Day 

by Sara Henderson Smith

Over the solemn night

Quivers the first dim light,

Sent forth to herald in the Christian Sabbath birth;

And like that feeble ray,

Scarce chasing gloom away.

Flickers the dawn of Faith, o'er the sin-darkened earth.

Faintly the morning beam,

By Cedron's cooling stream,

And dark Gethsemane, piercing the misty veil.

Reveals the sepulchre,

And its lone watcher - her

Who lingering still, pours forth her grief in low, deep

wail.

Mary, why weepest thou?"

Forgiven, sinless, now;

So soon the echo lost, that bade thee "go in peace."

Still in the cold, damp air,

Rises the grief-taught prayer.

Her Lord is taken hence, nor may her mourning cease.

"Mary, why weepest thou?"

Forgiven, sinless now!

Bowed to the earth, not then her Master's voice she

hears;

"Mary!" the thrilling tone

Now to her heart has gone.

Love taught her first to weep; Love has dried up her

tears.

Disciple of the Lord,

Who trembles at His word,

Be strong, like hers, thy love, tho' faith be dimmed

and weak.

Go wait, and watch, and pray, -

Turn not, if He delay, -

He knows thee by thy name, and to thy heart will speak.

E'en now the angel band

In light around thee stand -

Repentant and forgiven, asking, "Why weepest thou?"

But not till He appears

To gather up thy tears

They gem the love-wrought crown that glitters on

His brow.

Ring, Happy Bells!

Ring, Happy Bells!

by Lucy Larcom

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,

And birds and streams repeat the chime

Of Easter time.

Ring, happy bells of Easter time!

The world takes up your chant sublime,

"The Lord is risen! "The night of fear

Has passed away, and heaven draws near:

We breathe the air of that blest clime,

At Easter time.

Ring, happy bells of Easter time!

Our happy hearts give back your chime!

The Lord is risen ! We die no more:

He opens wide the heavenly door;

He meets us, while to Him we climb,

At Easter time.

One Easter Lily's Mission

ONE EASTER LILY'S MISSION

by Ada Stewart Shelton

The first faint flush of the fair Easter

dawn

Touched with its tender light a lily's

face,

So pure and fair that one would scarce

believe

It could find life in such a dreary

place.

High up amid the roof-tops crowded

close

Of wretched dwellings, stairways lead-

ing in

To darkened alleys, there the fair flower

grew,

O'erlooking want and misery and sin.

"My sisters sweet and fair will hail this

morn;

Within the churches' walls, with win-

ning grace,

They will proclaim to-day the Easter

joy;

E'en on the altar they will find a

place.

"What part is given to me this Easter

Day?

In all its gladness I can have no

share;

For even those who watch my leaves

unfold

Do scarcely know the day whose name

I bear."

Soon one drew near whose touch was

coarse and rough,

Withal the heart that guided it was

kind;

"The child that moans below shall have

my flower,

Maybe 'twill bring some comfort to

her mind."

Down the steep stairway, through the

alley dark,

Was the white lily carried, oh, so fair!

It seemed in passing through the dreary

place

To leave a benediction on the air.

Within a wretched, comfortless, dim

room,

Moaning with pain, with fever's vague

unrest,

A young child lay; with smile of radiant

joy

She clasped the Easter lily to her breast.

"Oh! is it really mine?" she mur-

mured low,

"It almost takes the pain; " the fair

flower lay

Close, closer pressed within that burning

hand,

Until at night both lives had ebbed

away.

Sweet was the life that the fair lily gave,

Though in the church's beauty she had

borne no share;

Lowly the work that waits in many a

path,

Rich are the blessings that lie hidden

there.

He Is Risen

He Is Risen

by Louisa Parsons Hopkins

He is risen He is not here!" 

Come the dark grave anear
And see the angel of light
In his robe of dazzling white
To your longing eyes appear!

Listen ! Be of good cheer!
Love shall dispel all fear;
Fled is the sad, lone night;
" He is risen!"

O Lord and Savior dear!
Make the truth shine so clear
Unto our grief-dimmed sight,
Make the glad word so bright,
As to dry every tear:
" He is risen ! "

The Easter Guest

 The Easter Guest 
by Mary Lowe Dickinson

I Knew Thou wert coming, O Lord Divine, 

I felt in the sunlight a softened shine,
And a murmur of welcome I thought I heard,
In the ripple of brooks and the chirp of bird;
And the bursting buds and the springing grass
Seemed to be waiting to see Thee pass;
And the sky, and the sea, and the throbbing sod
Pulsed and thrilled to the touch of God.

I knew Thou wert coming, O Love Divine,
To gather the world's heart up to Thine;
I knew the bonds of the rock-hewn grave
Were riven, that living Thy life might save.
But blind and wayward I could not see
Thou wert coming to dwell with nie^ e'en me ;
And my heart o'erburdened with care and sin.
Had no fair chambers to take Thee in :

Not one clean spot for Thy foot to tread,
Not one pure pillow to rest Thy head;
There was nothing to offer, no bread, no wine, 

No oil of joy in this heart of mine;

And yet the light of Thy kingly face

Illumed for Thyself a small dark place,

And I crept to the spot by Thy smile made sweet,

And the tears came ready to wash Thy feet.

Now let me come nearer, O Lord Divine,

Make in my soul for Thyself a shrine;

Cleanse, till the desolate place shall be

Fit for a dwelling, dear Lord, for Thee.

Rear, if Thou wilt, a throne in my breast,

Reign, I will worship and serve my guest.

While Thou art in me - and in Thee I abide -

No end can come to the Easter-tide.

The poor and anxious, plod their dreary ways...

       "Poor, anxious, over thoughtful man ! He plods his dreary way - bowed down with earthly care - borrowing sorrow from the days to come - forgetful of the Heavenly Provider.

       Sweet flowers! Do you breathe of hope to his dim faith - whisper to his sinking heart of Him who so clothes the grass of the fields from day to day. Wherefore taketh he thought for the morrow? His Father knoweth his need. He will provide out of His own rich fullness. He will lift the shadow of care that smothers him like a pall. Oh! that he would but consider the Lilies!

       Has all pleasure faded out of your life? Do the clouds of disappointment shroud your sky? It is  better for you to die than to live, think you? Nay - consider the Lilies, with which God so clothes the grass of the fields. Life is not all a barren waste. Ah! through blinding tears, you can see no loveliness; but it is there - all around you still. Let your gracious Father wipe the tears away, that you may see clearly. He waits to be gracious - to do all you need - to comfort you, exceeding abundantly above all you can ask or think, for His own good pleasure. He giveth not according to desert; He measureth not His gifts by desire; out of His own rich fullness in Christ the Lord, He bestoweth to the full measure of the need, heaped up and running over - He giveth without measure, to the sons of His love in Jesus. If His face be hid for a moment, His kindness is everlasting. Ah! would you but consider the Lilies, and turn to Him for comfort and consolation!" A. Buchanan.

 "Consider the lilies...

Our Burial Places Sacred.

       How we linger around the cold remains of a friend till absolutely driven from it! How we care for it, as for some precious gem not always to be trodden in the dust! How reverently we commit it to the keeping of its mother earth; bidding it good night as if in attendance on the councils of royalty!

       How sacred is the spot where he lies! How often do we retire not alone to weep but to hold sweet communion with the departed, and say, "We shall meet again." - Rev. McClelland, D. D.