Poems and dramas of George Cabot Lodge

Strangely, inviolably aloof, alone,
Once shall it hardly come to pass that we,
As with his Cross, as up his Calvary,
Burdened and blind, ascend and share his throne
And perfectly, as with our lives, atone
For the heart's triumph, for the soul's victory!—
Yet may we seem thereafter, dead as he,
To lie within life's sepulchre of stone ...
But he is risen, the Lord is risen!—and thus,
Thus may he rise, the Lord may rise in us,
Who sleeps, who is not dead, who lives alway!
And all who come love-kindled to the tomb,
Shall find, as Mary found, an empty room,
And meet the Lord, alive and on his way! ...

University of Virginia Library

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