A Poem Inspired by Matthew 28:5-8
Upon the first day of the week, ere morning's light had broke,
Two faithful women made their way with hearts in sorrow choked.
The stone was rolled, the seal was broke, the guard in terror lay,
And there an angel from on high stood radiant in array.
His countenance like lightning shone, his raiment white as snow,
He spake with voice of heaven's calm to those who trembled so:
Fear not, ye daughters of the dust, for well I know your quest,
Ye seek the Lord, the Crucified, whose side the spear had pierced.
He is not here, the angel cried, the tomb lies cold and bare,
For He is risen, even as He told His followers there.
Come, see the place where once He lay in death's unyielding hold,
The linen cloths in order rest, the stone is backward rolled.
No thief hath stolen hence the Lord, no fraud hath worked its art,
But God the Father raised His Son, fulfilling every part.
The words He spake on mountain slope, by Galilee's calm shore,
Now stand confirmed in open grave, and death shall reign no more.
Go quickly hence, the angel said, and bear the tidings glad
To His disciples, scattered wide, who fled when trials came.
Tell them, He is not bound by death, but risen from the dead,
And lo, He goeth on before to Galilee ahead.
There shall ye see Him face to face, as once ye walked with Him,
The Shepherd calls His weary flock where first the light shone dim.
Now have I told you all the truth, let not your hearts delay,
The risen King awaits His own at breaking of the day.
The women turned with hastened feet, their bosoms filled with fear,
Yet joy, like dawn's first golden ray, through every shadow peered.
They ran to tell the wondrous news, though trembling limbs might quake,
For heaven's light had pierced the night, and death's long night did break.
O glorious morn, when hope revived and sorrow's chain was rent,
When fear and joy in sweet accord within the bosom blent!
The cross that stood in shame and blood now wears a victor's crown,
And every soul that seeks the Lord in Him new life hath found.
No longer need the seeker mourn beside the silent stone,
For He who once was crucified now claims the world His own.
The empty tomb proclaims aloud what prophets long foretold,
That sin and death and hell itself before His power must fold.
Ye weary hearts that bear the cross of doubt or deep despair,
Hear now the angel's gentle voice still sounding through the air:
Fear not, though darkness veil the sky and grief your steps attend,
The risen Christ goes on before, your faithful Guide and Friend.
In every Galilee of life where daily labors call,
Where joys are mixed with bitter tears and shadows often fall,
He goeth on before thee still, preparing paths of peace,
And bids thee come and see the place where mortal sorrows cease.
Go quickly then, with joyful haste, and tell the news abroad,
To scattered souls in fear and flight, to those who serve the Lord.
The tomb is vacant, death is slain, the stone is rolled away,
And Christ the Lord is risen indeed, the dawn of endless day.
Let every tongue repeat the strain that angels first began,
Let every heart with holy fear and rising joy be spanned.
For in that garden long ago the victory was won,
And now the risen Savior calls each wandering soul to come.
O blessed women, first to hear and first to bear the word,
Your feet that hastened from the tomb have taught the faithful herd.
Though fear and joy together strove within your mortal breast,
Yet love compelled your steps to run and grant the world no rest.
So let us rise from doubt's cold tomb, from sorrow's heavy night,
And run with tidings of great joy into the morning light.
The Crucified is Lord of all, the grave could not contain
The One whose love eternal breaks the strongest mortal chain.
Fear not, O soul, though tempests rage and hope seems buried deep,
For Christ is risen, just as said, and His the watch to keep.
Come see the empty place of death, then haste to tell abroad
That Jesus lives, and lives for thee, the ever-living Lord.
Thus ends the angel's sacred charge, yet echoes still the call,
From age to age, from heart to heart, till time itself shall fall.
The women ran with mingled awe and joy that overflowed,
And so may every pilgrim run upon the upward road.
He is not here, the chorus rings across the vaulted skies,
He is risen, death is conquered, let all the earth arise!
Go quickly, tell, for He goes on before to Galilee,
Where every seeking soul shall find the risen Christ and see.
No comments:
Post a Comment