Classic Poem

Lilies swinging censers fair,
In the dreamy Spring-tide air,
Purer seem your bells this morn:
Roses on the dewy lawn,
Tinted with the hues of dawn,
Ye are sweeter: flow'rets say,
Why are ye so rare to-day?
Oh why, oh why!

Robin, tender robin, say,
Why art thou so glad to-day?
Never has thy note to me
Borne beneath its melody,
Such inspiring mystery.
Warbling robin, softly say,
Why art thou so glad to-day?
Oh why, oh why!

Silver-throated lark, reply!
Far off in the azure sky,
Wherefore does that song of thine,
Soaring in a strain divine,
Strangely thrill this soul of mine?
Fluting lark, reply, reply!
Is't to bear my soul on high?
On high, on high!

Questioner! the birds reply,
Christ ascends to-day on high,
From the sadness and the gloom,
From the shadows of the tomb.
For His glory sweeter bloom
Rose and lily; this is why
Strains divine thrill through the sky,
'Tis why, 'tis why!

Pure as is the lily's bowl,
List'ner! ever be thy soul!
Fragrant as the rose thy life,
Kindliness o'ercoming strife;
Jesus' vict'ry gives new life.
Then uplift thy drooping brow,
Join in Nature's gladness now!
Sing now, sing now!

Yes! the Easter-tide is fair,
Strains triumphant flood the air;
So bright garlands we entwine
For the Son of God Divine.
Then rejoice, O soul of mine!
With the chanting birds and flow'rs,
Consecrate these blessed hours,
Rejoice! rejoice!