THE DEW OF DUST
Odeadof earth, rejoice!The flowers from the dustBy vernal dews ariseAnd smile reviving trust,When from their Wintry tomb they wakeAnd into Summer beauty break.And so shall sleeping beWithin our fleshly tomb;The Eastertide shall freeThe life that lieth numb,And from the dust shall rise anewThe deathless bloom of Spring and dew.Say not to ashes turnsOur being with its shell,For a divineness burnsBy death unquenchableTo warm the poor chill mould we’re ofAnd our undying nature prove.If not another graceShall clothe our soul’s desire,Let not the grave effaceWhat in us doth aspire!So shall we nobler be than clayAnd give a truth to “life for aye.”
Odeadof earth, rejoice!The flowers from the dustBy vernal dews ariseAnd smile reviving trust,When from their Wintry tomb they wakeAnd into Summer beauty break.And so shall sleeping beWithin our fleshly tomb;The Eastertide shall freeThe life that lieth numb,And from the dust shall rise anewThe deathless bloom of Spring and dew.Say not to ashes turnsOur being with its shell,For a divineness burnsBy death unquenchableTo warm the poor chill mould we’re ofAnd our undying nature prove.If not another graceShall clothe our soul’s desire,Let not the grave effaceWhat in us doth aspire!So shall we nobler be than clayAnd give a truth to “life for aye.”
Odeadof earth, rejoice!The flowers from the dustBy vernal dews ariseAnd smile reviving trust,When from their Wintry tomb they wakeAnd into Summer beauty break.
Odeadof earth, rejoice!
The flowers from the dust
By vernal dews arise
And smile reviving trust,
When from their Wintry tomb they wake
And into Summer beauty break.
And so shall sleeping beWithin our fleshly tomb;The Eastertide shall freeThe life that lieth numb,And from the dust shall rise anewThe deathless bloom of Spring and dew.
And so shall sleeping be
Within our fleshly tomb;
The Eastertide shall free
The life that lieth numb,
And from the dust shall rise anew
The deathless bloom of Spring and dew.
Say not to ashes turnsOur being with its shell,For a divineness burnsBy death unquenchableTo warm the poor chill mould we’re ofAnd our undying nature prove.
Say not to ashes turns
Our being with its shell,
For a divineness burns
By death unquenchable
To warm the poor chill mould we’re of
And our undying nature prove.
If not another graceShall clothe our soul’s desire,Let not the grave effaceWhat in us doth aspire!So shall we nobler be than clayAnd give a truth to “life for aye.”
If not another grace
Shall clothe our soul’s desire,
Let not the grave efface
What in us doth aspire!
So shall we nobler be than clay
And give a truth to “life for aye.”