Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Easter

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For works with similar titles, see Easter.
Not to be confused with Éastre.
For other versions of this work, see Easter (Coates).
Poems, Volume II by Florence Earle Coates
Easter

EASTER

I  KNOW the Summer fell asleep
 Long weary months ago;
Heaped high above her grave I saw
 The heavy winter snow;
Say, sparrow, then, what word you bring;
 Is it her requiem you sing?


The meadow lark is mute, the wren
 Forgets his late abode,
No throstle answering fluteth near,
 Yet never prelude flowed
From ivied bosk or verdant slope
 More brimming with delight and hope!


I, listening, seem to see the blooms
 That were whilom so dear,
And voices loved and silent long
 I, listening, seem to hear;
And longings in my breast confer,
 And sweet, prophetic pulses stir.


"Thou lonely one," they seem to say,
 "Lost Summer shall return;
Wreathed in her shadowy tresses shall
 The roses blissful burn;
Wan lilies at her feet shall lie,
 And wind-flowers on her bosom sigh.


"Here, from this rough and lowly bed,
 The little celandine
Shall lift her sunny glances to
 The balmy eglantine;
And flags shall flaunt by yonder lake,
 And fair Narcissus there awake."


I know the Summer fell asleep
 Long weary months ago;
But ah! all is not lost, poor heart,
 That's laid beneath the snow;
There wait, grown cold to care and strife,
 Things costliest, dying into life.


All changes, but Life ceases not
 With the suspended breath;
There is no bourne to Being, and
 No permanence in Death;
Time flows to an eternal sea,
 Space widens to Infinity!