An Easter Hymn

His wide Hands fashioned us white grains and red,
His Eyes weep rains to swell them in their bed,
Whereby the dust-grains of our lives are fed.
Alleluia!

In Earth our mother's bosom undecayed
The Seed-corn of the Flesh He took, He laid —
One white small Grain beneath a sealed rock's shade.
Alleluia!

How blind that Seed lay till this autumn morn
When forth it sprouted blade and flower and corn,
And with Its lifted Head the seal was torn!
Alleluia!

Hope of men's bodies' grains both red and white —
Shrivelled and sere and void of speech and sight,
Is that blind Seed Who burst His way to light.
Alleluia!

We, God's red millet grains, men hold so cheap,
Innumerable beneath our grey rocks sleep,
Yet He that cared to sow us cares to reap.
Alleluia!