Our Church Palms are Budding Willow Twigs

While Christ lay dead the widowed world
Wore willow green for hope undone:
Till, when bright Easter dews impearled
The chilly burial earth,
All north and south, all east and west,
Flushed rosy in the arising sun;
Hope laughed, and Faith resumed her rest,
And Love remembered mirth.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.