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Poem by George Herbert


Easter


Rise, heart, thy lord is risen. Sing his praise
Without delays,
Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise
With him may'st rise:
That, as his death calcinèd thee to dust,
His life may make thee gold, and, much more, just.

Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part
With all thy art,
The cross taught all wood to resound his name
Who bore the same.
His stretchèd sinews taught all strings what key
Is best to celebrate this most high day.

Consort, both heart and lute, and twist a song
Pleasant and long;
Or, since all music is but three parts vied
And multiplied
Oh let thy blessèd Spirit bear a part,
And make up our defects with his sweet art. 



George Herbert


George Herbert's other poems:
  1. The Dawning
  2. The Temper
  3. The British Church
  4. Affliction (III)
  5. The Search


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Edmund Spenser Easter ("MOST glorious Lord of Lyfe! that, on this day")
  • Emily Johnson Easter ("Lent gathers up her cloak of sombre shading")
  • Joyce Kilmer Easter ("The air is like a butterfly")
  • Katharine Tynan Easter ("Bring flowers to strew His way")

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