This Easter Day.
With loins girt about, and staff in hand,
As one made ready for the Promised Land,
Who may not stay;
Come, then. The feast is spread which angels still
Desire to taste;
Take thou thy crumb, nor wait for farther good,
To bask and batten on immortal food,
But rise in haste;
And get thee forth to the hard-trodden way,