Song of Easter

R. Boughton

The stars wailed when the reed was born,

And heaven wept at the birth of the thorn:

Joy was pluckt like a flower and torn,

For Time foreshadowed Good-Friday Morn.

But the stars laughed like children free

And heaven was hung with the rainbow's glee

When at Easter Sunday, so fair to see,

Time bowed before Eternity.