WITH Mary, ere dawn, in the garden,
I stand at the tomb of the Lord;
I share in her sorrowing wonder;
I hear through the darkness a word, —
The first the dear Master hath spoken,
Since the awful death-stillness was broken.
He calleth her tenderly, — 'Mary!'
Sweet, sweet is His voice in the gloom.
He spake to us first, oh my sisters,
So breathing our lives into bloom!
He lifteth our souls out of prison!
We, earliest, saw Him arisen!
He lives! Read you not the glad tidings
In our eyes, that have gazed into His?
He lives I By His light on our faces
Believe it. and come where He is!
O doubter, dud you who denied Him,
Return to your places beside Him!
The message of His resurrection
To man it was woman's to give:
It is fresh in her heart through the ages:
' He lives, that ye also may live,
Unfolding, as He hath, the story
Of manhood's attainable glory.'
O Sun, on our souls first arisen,
Give us light for the spirits that grope!
Make us loving and steadfast and loyal
To bear up humanity's hope!
O Friend, who forsakest us never.
Breathe through us thy errands forever!