Sunday, April 5, 2015

Poem: "The Raising of Lazarus" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

When Lazarus left his charnel-cave,
And home to Mary’s house return’d,
Was this demanded – if he yearn’d,
To hear her weeping by his grave?

“Where were you, brother, those four days?”
There lives no record of reply,
Which telling what it is to die
Had surely added praise to praise.

From every house the neighbors met,
The streets were fill’d with joyful sound,
A solemn gladness even crown’d
The purple brows of Olivet.

Behold a man raised up by Christ!
The rest remaineth unreveal’d;
He told it not; or something seal’d
The lips of that Evangelist.

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