( Easter Morning )

She cometh now, with the sun's splendid shine

On face and limbs and hair!

Ye who are watching, have ye seen so fair

A Lady ever as this one is of mine?

Have ye beheld her likeness anywhere?

See, as she cometh unrestrained and fleet

Past the thrush-haunted trees,

How glad the lilies are that touch her knees!

How glad the grasses underneath her feet!

And how even I am yet more glad than these!