Was the celestial seed, whence round you peace hath grown.
Christ hath arisen! Oh, not one cherish’d head
Hath, midst the flowery sods, been pillow’d here
Without a hope, (howe’er the heart hath bled
In its vain yearnings o’er the unconscious bier,)
A hope, upspringing clear
From those majestic tidings of the morn,
Which lit the living way to all of woman born.
Thou hast wept mournfully, O human love!
E’en on this greensward: night hath heard thy cry,