Page:Flower of youth, poems in war time, Tynan, 1915.djvu/82

80 Christ the Lord of Life new-risen,

Calls the sleepers that they rise—

From the unnumbered graves, break prison,

Follow Him to Paradise.

Who be then these shining ones

Dancing with a heavenly mirth,

The King's daughters, the King's sons,

Fairer than the folk of earth?

Graves are busier than a hive

The wind blows, the sun is warm;

Now the dead are come alive—

Loosed is many a golden swarm.

Sing to the Lord a new song!

The Sun's risen in our East;

Christ the Lord of Life is young.

And the young sit to the feast.