Oh radiant lilies, of glistening white,
Rising majestic, blooming in light,
Breathing forth incense by day and night!

If the tongues in your fair sweet bells have power,
Let them peal forth the tale, from this very hour,
Of the struggle from earth of each perfect flower.

Let them tell of the time when dormant you lay,
Far from the beauty and light of day,
In shroud-like wrappings, in cold dark clay.

Let them tell the story for those who deep
In graves of doubt and discouragement sleep,
Or who wrapped in the garments of selfishness keep;

And to those who till now have idly heard
The tidings of joy, and each beautiful word
That the dear Christ spoke; or are deterred.

From breaking from darkness and seeking the light,
By their lack of faith in God’s love and His might,
And so effortless lie in the gloom of night.

Tell them, by courage and striving and prayer,
That they too may rise to the sunlit air,
Where souls, like the lilies, bloom pure and fair;

And the words repeat, till they’re inward borne
Upon thousands of souls, this Easter morn,
Who shall upward strive and be newly born.

Julia Anna Wolcott
Song Blossoms, 1895