Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/207

But in the Olive-mount, by night appearing,
    Midst the dim leaves, your holiest work was done!
Whose was the voice that came divinely cheering,
    Fraught with the breath of God, to aid his Son?—
Haply of those that, on the moon-lit plains,
Wafted good tidings unto Syrian swains.

Yet one more task was yours! your heavenly dwelling
    Ye left, and by th' unsealed sepulchral stone,
In glorious raiment, sat; the weepers telling,
    That He they sought had triumphed, and was gone!
Now have ye left us for the brighter shore,
Your presence lights the lonely groves no more.

But may ye not, unseen, around us hover,
    With gentle promptings and sweet influence yet,
Though the fresh glory of those days be over,
    When, midst the palm trees, man your footsteps met?
Are ye not near when faith and hope rise high,
When love, by strength, o'ermasters agony?