Easter, by Edmund Spenser
Most glorious Lord of Lyfe! that, on this day,Didst make Thy triumph over death and sin;And, having harrowd hell, didst bring awayCaptivity thence captive, us to win:This joyous day, deare
Most glorious Lord of Lyfe! that, on this day,Didst make Thy triumph over death and sin;And, having harrowd hell, didst bring awayCaptivity thence captive, us to win:This joyous day, deare
1Done is a battell on the dragon blak,Our campioun Chryst confoundit hes his force,The yettis of hell ar brokin with a crak,The signe trivmphall rasit is of the croce.The diuillis
Death, be not proud, though some have called theeMighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrowDie not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou
Make no mistake: if he rose at allIt was as His body;If the cell’s dissolution did not reverse, the molecule reknit,The amino acids rekindle,The Church will fall. It was not
From St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians: Now I am reminding you, brothers, of the gospel I preached to you, which you indeed received and in which you also
Rise heart; thy Lord is risen. Sing his praiseWithout delays,Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewiseWith him mayst rise:That, as his death calcined thee to dust,His life may
Moist with one drop of thy blood, my dry soulShall (though she now be in extreme degreeToo stony hard, and yet too fleshly,) beFreed by that drop, from being starved,
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