English poem
( Easter Morning )
by Francis Sherman (1825–1905)
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!