Classic Poem

To Easter Day—1646: Ode

Wellcome Blest day wheron
The sonn
 Not of the Sphers alone
Did rise
But that of Righteousness who shon
Our True Light, was our sacrefize

   For 'thad been night
With us
Dark, Everlasting, Dismall, Vaperous
Entaild from our first Parents Appetite
  Til by the power and might
Of This Light of the world our shades took flight.

   Death, Hel, the Grave
   That ever crave
 And never satesfied appeer
 Noe longer their Dominions have
  Sithence vanquisht by This Conquerer
Who doth enlighten every Faythfull Sphere.

 Now that each Orbe consenting prove
   The while
And trulier might feel those Comforts move
From soe great light, such pretious Love
  We must back on our selves recoyle
To see what in each lamp one hath of Oyle.

    For without doubt
Their Share is darknes Let their lights goe out
    And wher again
Ones Light doth shine through vertues before Men
    'Tis true Divinety
Our Heavenly Father's Glorefide therby.