Classic Poem

Night's Shadows wrapped the Cross in gloom,
And e'en the shining stars grew dim with grief;
All Nature bowed in agony,
And yearned in silent anguish for relief.
The Temple's Veil was rent in twain,
The dead, though sleeping through the quiet years,
Arose, and walked the troubled Earth
While living souls grew faint with many fears.
What can this mighty tumult mean?
The Christ, the suffering Saviour now has died!
Ask not, but gaze on yonder Mount
Of Calvary, where hangs the Crucified!