Poems (Hoffman)/Resurrection
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For works with similar titles, see Resurrection.
RESURRECTION
I took a tiny pansy seed
And laid it in the mold
Then waited patiently to see
The first green leaves unfold.
Time passed and from the silent sod
There came no living sound
But soon the little embryo
Appeared above the ground,
It grew in pride and beauty
Kissed by sunbeams, washed by showers,
'Till Summer came and robed it
In a wealth of snowy flowers;
And now, as if in thankfulness
For life and beauty given,
My pure, sweet, waxen pansies lift
Their purple eyes to heaven.
And laid it in the mold
Then waited patiently to see
The first green leaves unfold.
Time passed and from the silent sod
There came no living sound
But soon the little embryo
Appeared above the ground,
It grew in pride and beauty
Kissed by sunbeams, washed by showers,
'Till Summer came and robed it
In a wealth of snowy flowers;
And now, as if in thankfulness
For life and beauty given,
My pure, sweet, waxen pansies lift
Their purple eyes to heaven.
I took the silent chrysalis
So motionless and still
And laid it very carefully
Upon my window-sill
Where brightly shone from out the east
The first beams of the sun,
And in those narrow prison walls
A wondrous change begun,
One morn a brilliant butterfly
Flew gaily 'round my room,
Burst were the bonds that bound it,
Deserted was its tomb,
With beauty, grace and loveliness
It cheered the Summer hours
And fed upon the nectar
Stored in the fragrant flowers.
So motionless and still
And laid it very carefully
Upon my window-sill
Where brightly shone from out the east
The first beams of the sun,
And in those narrow prison walls
A wondrous change begun,
One morn a brilliant butterfly
Flew gaily 'round my room,
Burst were the bonds that bound it,
Deserted was its tomb,
With beauty, grace and loveliness
It cheered the Summer hours
And fed upon the nectar
Stored in the fragrant flowers.
I stood beside a casket
The gem had soared away
To join in Heaven's diadem
A glittering galaxy,
But lingering o'er the casket
I thought of days now fled
And of one who bore no likeness
To the changed and faded dead,
And I seemed to see the merriment
That sparkled in her eye
And to hear again the merry laugh
I heard in days gone by,
And I thought how soon the casket
Hid in the earth's embrace
Would fade away, nor leave behind
In memory's hall a trace;
And as a last long tribute
That friendship's hand could pay
Ere to the lonely tomb they bore
The cold and icy clay,
I plucked my fragile pansies
To lay upon her bier
And bade them carry with them
The language of a tear.
Emblems of angel purity
Could angels be more fair?
And as their sweet-breathed incense
Was flung upon the air
Faith whispered: "Though not on the earth
Yet in a heavenly fane,
The resurrected casket
Shall hold the gem again."
O little seed interred in earth
Thy wondrous change is wrought!
O butterfly, the chrysalis
Was once thy burial spot!
Both from a dark and gloomy grave
To life and beauty born
O moldering clay, thou too shalt have
A resurrection morn!
The gem had soared away
To join in Heaven's diadem
A glittering galaxy,
But lingering o'er the casket
I thought of days now fled
And of one who bore no likeness
To the changed and faded dead,
And I seemed to see the merriment
That sparkled in her eye
And to hear again the merry laugh
I heard in days gone by,
And I thought how soon the casket
Hid in the earth's embrace
Would fade away, nor leave behind
In memory's hall a trace;
And as a last long tribute
That friendship's hand could pay
Ere to the lonely tomb they bore
The cold and icy clay,
I plucked my fragile pansies
To lay upon her bier
And bade them carry with them
The language of a tear.
Emblems of angel purity
Could angels be more fair?
And as their sweet-breathed incense
Was flung upon the air
Faith whispered: "Though not on the earth
Yet in a heavenly fane,
The resurrected casket
Shall hold the gem again."
O little seed interred in earth
Thy wondrous change is wrought!
O butterfly, the chrysalis
Was once thy burial spot!
Both from a dark and gloomy grave
To life and beauty born
O moldering clay, thou too shalt have
A resurrection morn!
And lovelier shall the seraph be
Than butterfly or flower,
And holier shall the voices be
That bless that waking hour;
For though the butterfly and flower
May sink 'neath Winter's frost
And though their bright symbolic forms
May be forever lost
Yet when the soul shall gather up
The ashes of her clay
Man shall through endless years defy
The empire of decay.
Than butterfly or flower,
And holier shall the voices be
That bless that waking hour;
For though the butterfly and flower
May sink 'neath Winter's frost
And though their bright symbolic forms
May be forever lost
Yet when the soul shall gather up
The ashes of her clay
Man shall through endless years defy
The empire of decay.