RESURRECTION—RISING.

The waking cock, that early crows To wear the night away, Puts in my mind the trump that blows Before the latter day; And as I rise up lustily, When sluggish sleep is past, So hope I to rise joyfully To judgment, at the last. George Gascoigne.

Up, and away, Thy Saviour’s gone before, Why dost thou stay, Dull soul? Behold the door Is open, and His precepts bid thee rise, Whose power hath vanquished all thine enemies. In vain thou say’st Thou art buried with thy Saviour, If thou delay’st To show by thy behaviour, That thou art risen with Him. Till thou shine Like Him, how canst thou say His light is thine. Open thine eyes Sin-seized soul, and see What cobweb ties They are that trammel thee; Not profit, pleasure, honours, as thou thinkest, But loss, pain, shame, at which thou vainly winkest. All that is good Thy Saviour dearly bought With His heart’s blood, And it must then be sought, Where he keeps residence, who rose this day; Linger no longer then, up and away. George Herbert.

What though my body run to dust? Faith cleaves unto it, counting every grain, With an exact and most particular trust, Reserving all for flesh again. George Herbert.

Man but dives in death; Dives from the sun, in fairer day to rise; The grave his subterranean road to bliss. Young.

Angels of Heaven, Ye who beheld Him fainting on the cross, And did Him homage, say, may mortal join The hallelujahs of the risen God? Will the faint voice and grovelling song be heard Amid the seraphim in light divine? Yes, He will deign, the Prince of Peace will deign For mercy to accept the hymn of faith, Low tho’ it be and humble. Lord of life, The Christ, the Comforter! thine advent now Fills my uprising soul. I mount, I fly Far o’er the skies, beyond the rolling orbs; The bonds of flesh dissolve, and earth recedes, And care, and pain, and sorrow, are no more. Henry Kirke White.

These ashes too, the little dust Our Father’s care shall keep, Till the last angel rise and break The long and dreary sleep. Then Love’s soft dew on every eye Shall shed its mildest rays; And the long-silent dust shall burst With shouts of endless praise. Henry Kirke White.

Majestical He rose: trembled the earth; The ponderous gate of stone was rolled away; The keepers fell, the angels, awe-struck, sunk Into invisibility, while forth The Saviour of the world walked, and stood Before the sepulchre, and viewed the clouds Empurpled glorious by the rising sun. Graham.

Jesus is risen! triumphal anthems sing; Thus from dead winter mounts the sprightly spring; Thus does the sun from night’s black shades return, And thus the single bird wings from the Arabian urn. Jesus is risen! He shall the world restore! Awake, ye dead! dull sinners, sleep no more! Wesley.

Christ hath arisen! Oh! not one cherished head Hath ’midst the flowery sods been pillowed 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. Mrs. Hemans.

When by a good man’s grave I muse alone, Methinks an angel sits upon the stone; Like those of old, on that thrice-hallowed night, Who sat and watched in raiment heavenly bright; And with a voice inspiring joy, not fear, Says, pointing upwards—that he is not here, That he is risen. Samuel Rogers.

Deign from Thy glory, Saviour, now to shed On us Thy quickening Spirit’s influence, That, risen with Thee, our hearts with strong desire May seek the things above, and join the strain Of seraphs that surround Thy sapphire throne, Mingle our songs with theirs, till, in one tide Of harmony, the pealing anthem roll O’er the eternal hills, and waft Thy deathless fame. S. Stennet.