The sun in heaven was darkened when Christ the Lord was slain,
And in the holy Temple the veil was rent in twain;
And all His sad disciples in sorrow bowed the head;
They thought His reign was ended; was not the Master dead?
Within the tomb they laid Him; the Roman watch was set,
And there were moans and weeping where'er His followers met;
All hope was dead within them; the Star of Bethlehem
Had set in utter darkness, and what was left for them?
In sorrow and in mourning the Sabbath passed away;
But early on the morrow, just at the break of day,
To seek His tomb the Marys went silently and slow,
Who by the cross had waited, and were the last to go.
They carried precious ointment and spices rich and rare,
The body of the Master for burial to prepare;
Their hearts were sad and heavy, their weeping eyes downcast,
And not a word was spoken as toward the tomb they passed.
But when they stood beside it, what wonder struck their sight?
Behold, a glorious angel, in robes of shining white;
They heard with joy and wonder the gracious words he said:
"Why seek ye here the Master, the living with the dead?
"For lo! He hath arisen—behold where He hath lain—
From death He hath arisen for evermore to reign;
Go, tell His sad disciples, that they may weep no more;
In Galilee then seek Him, where He hath gone before."
'Twas in the early morning, just at the break of day,
He rose to drive the darkness, the night of sin, away;
And on this dawn there follows no darkness and no night;
He lives and reigns forever, the Lord of life and light.
[EASTER IN JERUSALEM.]
BY LYDIA M. FINKELSTEIN.
Nearly nineteen hundred years ago there dawned in Jerusalem, that once-favored city, the glorious morning of the Resurrection. This Holy City has not vanished from the face of the earth, but still stands a silent witness of the scene so dear to humanity that was once enacted there.
All over the Christian world, wherever it is celebrated, Easter brings its wondrous tide of joy and gladness, but in Jerusalem it is observed with great rejoicings. That city is now, even as it was of old, the resort of thousands of pilgrims from every quarter of the globe, who come to spend Easter within its ancient walls. These visitors differ from one another in ideas, manners, language, and costume, and yet have a certain unity in the purpose for which they have assembled.
Every pilgrim wends his way to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which is, according to tradition, the tomb of our Saviour. This church is a large building, with beautiful belfries, its front is richly sculptured, and though time-worn and gray, it presents a magnificent appearance. It is now always crowded with pilgrims from every clime, of every race and color, worshipping at the various shrines.
Six different denominations—Roman Catholic, Greek, Armenians, Syrians, Copts, and Maronites—perform their services in their own rites and language in this church, so that a spectator can see almost every nationality represented there in its own peculiar costume.
Jerusalem is a little world in itself at this time of the year. The streets are very gay and crowded. Merchants from Damascus and other places come hither, bringing wares of various kinds, which they display in the stores. Life and activity are the characteristics of this season.
The Mohammedans, also, celebrate the death of Moses at this time, and the streets are filled with their pilgrim processions, consisting of men and boys with drums, tabors, cymbals, and tambourines, which combine to produce a peculiarly barbarous sound. Then come dervishes, with long dishevelled hair, carrying spears and hatchets, dancing, leaping, and feigning to cut themselves with swords. Following all these is a mixed crowd of men, women, and children shouting, singing, and clapping their hands. Thus they proceed to the supposed tomb of Moses, which the Mohammedans have located on the western side of the Jordan.