Classic Poem

Called by the Easter bells, believers come
To praise the risen Lord of Christendom;
And fair young girls, and gallants blithe and trim,
And elders grave, and children dear to Him,
To-day, as in our fathers' time, rejoice
With flowers, and brave attire, and heart and voice.

From o'er the seas what tale the cannon tells—
How blends it with the message of the bells?
Of these who praise, the sons and brothers slay
Those other sons of Him who rules this day.
To hearts perplexed comes back the Master's word,
“Not peace to earth I bring, but still a sword!”

To us whom earth's dear bondage still restrains
To grieving losses and distracting gains,
Ready to rise to truth, could we be sure
In which of warring truths to rise secure—
To us distraught, who doubt if right we do,
Cry Easter bells, “Christ rose, and so may you!”