Out of the place of death

Out of the place of death,
Out of the cypress shadow,
Out of sepulchral earth,
Dust that Calvary gave,
Sprang, as fragrant of breath
As any flower of the meadow,
This, with death in its birth,
Sent like speech from the grave.
So, in a world of doubt,
Love — like a flower —
Blossoms suddenly white,
Suddenly sweet and pure,
Shedding a breath about
Of new mysterious power,
Lifting a hope in the night,
Not to be told, but sure.