“Because I live, ye shall live also.”
Calmly the Paschal moonlight now is sleeping
On mossy hillock and on headstone grey,
Where still our Mother holds in faithful keeping
Such as, while living, in her dear arms lay.
Ah! loving and beloved, we know ye rest,
E’en in the grave, upon her hallow’d breast.
Where is the cumbrous robe-the flesh-the matter
Which held the spirit in such painful thrall?
A little dust that scarce a breath would scatter,
Darkness, and void, and silence-this seems all.
Yet somewhere, safe, the waiting body lies,
While the freed spirit is in Paradise.
Ah! in that day, when earth is all refinèd
From death and sin, the darkness and the stain;
When Eden’s perfect beauty is enshrinèd
In unmarred purity and light again;
Transfigured, and “exceeding white as snow”-
But still that body-it will rise, we know.
The self-same lips that hymn’d the Easter story
With heart of Easter gladness, here, may sing
The song of angels, in the angels’ glory,
Around the throne of our Almighty King.
The same feet, which this ancient pavement trod,
May walk for aye the temple-courts of God.
O blessed day, which saw the Saviour risen!
Which told to trembling man that wondrous news-
“The grave is not thy body’s endless prison,
Thy soul no more in vain for pardon sues.
From Adam’s curse, by Christ’s death, thou art free-
The Lord accepts this sacrifice for thee.”
“Peace be with you”-by Him those words were spoken
After the glorious victory was won-
After the angel gave that blessed token
To her whose favour’d lips had called him “Son.”
Ah! where were peace, if every trembling breath
Strengthen’d the fetters of an endless death?
Where were the peace, if that dark cloud of mourning
From Calvary’s hill had never pass’d away?
If our deep night had never known the dawning
Of that mysterious Resurrection-day?
O Christ our Lord! Thou didst indeed release
Thy sinful children, and didst give them peace.
And now we know that Thou art throned for ever,
True God, and yet true man, in heaven above;
That now no power our life from Thine can sever,
That naught shall rob us of Thy gift of love;
That Thou, within the veil, dost intercede
For all who suffer and for all in need.
That Thou art with us here, too, in our sorrow-
With us to help in every time of strife,
Dost give to each dark day its joyous morrow,
Dost make us strong with Thine own love and life.
And we may love, and we may come to Thee
In heaven, and share Thy great felicity!
Ay, when the grass upon our grave is sighing
In the cool wind and Easter moonlight fair,
The mortal dust, beneath the violets lying,
Shall rest in hope and rest in safety there,
Till Thou shalt come with Thy celestial train,
And our bright spirit take its own again.
“After Thy likeness,” in its sweet perfection,
Shall we awake in that eternal day;
All-save the sin-shall have its resurrection,
Clothed in Thy glorious immortality.
And we shall stand Thy radiant throne beside,
Blessed for evermore, and-satisfied!

A few random poems:
- A Parsonage In Oxfordshire by William Wordsworth
- Springfield Magical by Vachel Lindsay
- Robert Burns: O Bonie Was Yon Rosy Brier:
- The Ancient Deception by Rixa White
- Quatrain 1693 (Farsi with English Translation) by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- The Sacrifice of Er-Heb by Rudyard Kipling
- An Apology for the Bottle Volcanic by Vachel Lindsay
- The Dunciad: Book III. poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
- Владимир Маяковский – Тёплое слово кое-каким порокам
- The Child’s Greäve by William Barnes
- Off the Turnpike poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Маяковский – Послушайте: Стих Владимира Маяковского – Читать текст стихотворения на Poetry Monster
- The Gardener XXIV: Do Not Keep to Yourself by Rabindranath Tagore
- Как небо сходится с водой
- To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time by William Butler Yeats
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- The Disquieting Muses by Sylvia Plath
- The Dispossessed by Sylvia Plath
- The Detective by Sylvia Plath
- The Death Of Myth-Making by Sylvia Plath
- The Dead by Sylvia Plath
- The Couriers by Sylvia Plath
- The Courage Of Shutting-Up by Sylvia Plath
- The Companionable Ills by Sylvia Plath
- The Colossus by Sylvia Plath
- The Burnt-Out Spa by Sylvia Plath
- The Bull Of Bendylaw by Sylvia Plath
- The Beggars by Sylvia Plath
- The Beekeeper’s Daughter by Sylvia Plath
- The Bee Meeting by Sylvia Plath
- The Beast by Sylvia Plath
- The Babysitters by Sylvia Plath
- The Arrival Of The Bee Box by Sylvia Plath
- The Applicant by Sylvia Plath
- Temper Of Time by Sylvia Plath
- Tale Of A Tub by Sylvia Plath
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Ada Cambridge (1844 – 1926), also known as Ada Cross, was an English-born Australian author and poetess. She wrote more than 25 works of fiction, three volumes of poetry and two autobiographical works.