Chapter XCI

Think along the Grecian isles
How each dark-eyed lady smiles,
As, at incense-hour, she goes,
Singing sweetly—Jesus rose!
Think of Roman, Goth, and Hun,
Praising and adoring One!
While, the solid world around,
Rises one symphonious sound,
From choirs, and bells, and organs blown,
Cathedral chaunt, and matins lone,
One burst—one loud adoring voice,
The Lord is risen—Earth rejoice!