Easter Night
All night had shout of men, and cry
      Of woeful women filled His way;
Until that noon of sombre sky
      On Friday, clamour and display
Smote Him; no solitude had He,
No silence, since Gethsemane.
Public was Death; but Power, but Might,
      But Life again, but Victory,
Were hushed within the dead of night,
      The shutter’d dark, the secrecy.
And all alone, alone, alone,
He rose again behind the stone.

Webpage © 2001 ELC
Lane Core Jr. (lane@elcore.net)
Created April 9, 2001; revised April 10, 2001.