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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348116" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Easter Eve</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hear me, Brother, gently met;<br>Just a little, turn, not yet,<br>Thou shalt laugh, and soon forget:<br>Now the midnight draweth near.<br>I have little more to tell;<br>Soon with hallow stroke and knell,<br>Thou shalt count the palace bell,<br>Calling that the hour is here.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Burdens black and strange to bear,<br>I must tell, and thou must share,<br>Listening with that stony stare,<br>Even as many a man before.<br>Years have lightly come and gone<br>In their jocund unison,<br>But the tides of life roll on-<br>They remember now no more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once upon a night of glee,<br>In an hour of revelry,<br>As I wandered restlessly,<br>I beheld with burning eye,<br>How a pale procession rolled<br>Through a quarter quaint and old,<br>With its banners and its gold,<br>And the crucifix went by.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well I knew that body brave<br>That was pierced and hung to save,<br>But my flesh was now a grave<br>For the soul that gnashed within.<br>He that they were bearing by,<br>With their banners white and high,<br>He was pure, and foul was I,<br>And his whiteness mocked my sin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, meseemed that even he,<br>Would not wait to look on me,<br>In my years and misery,<br>Things that he alone could heal.<br>In mine eyes I felt the flame<br>Of a rage that naught could tame,<br>And I cried and cursed his name,<br>Till my brain began to reel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In a moment I was 'ware,<br>How that many watching there,<br>Fearfully with blanch and stare,<br>Crossed themselves and shrank away;<br>Then upon my reeling mind,<br>Like a sharp blow from behind,<br>Fell the truth, and left me blind,<br>Hopeless now and all astray.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O'er the city wandering wide,<br>Seeking but some place to hide,<br>Where the sounds of mirth had died,<br>Through the shaken night I stole;<br>From the ever-eddying stream<br>Of the crowds that did but seem<br>Like the processions in a dream<br>To my empty echoing soul.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Till I came at last alone<br>To a hidden street of stone,<br>Where the city's monotone<br>On the silence fell no more.<br>Then I saw how one in white<br>With a footstep mute and light,<br>Through the shadow of the night<br>Like a spirit paced before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And a sudden stillness came<br>Through my spirit and my frame,<br>And a spell without a name<br>Held me in his mystic track.<br>Though his presence seemed so mild,<br>Yet he led me like a child,<br>With a yearning strange and wild,<br>That I dared not turn me back.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, I could not see his face,<br>Nor behold his utmost grace,<br>Yet I might not change my pace<br>Fastened by a strange belief;<br>For his steps were sad and slow,<br>And his hands hung straight below,<br>And his head was bowed, as though<br>Pressed by some immortal grief.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So I followed, yet not I<br>Held alone that company:<br>Every silent passer-by<br>Paled and turned and joined with me;<br>So we followed still and fleet,<br>While the city street by street,<br>Fell behind our rustling feet<br>Like a deadened memory.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where the sound of sin and riot<br>Broke upon the night's dim quiet,<br>And the solemn bells hung nigh it<br>Echoed from their looming towers;<br>Where the mourners wept alway,<br>Watching for the morning grey;<br>Where the weary toiler lay,<br>Husbanding the niggard hours;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By the gates where all night long<br>Guests in many a joyous throng,<br>With the sound of dance and song,<br>Dreamed in golden palaces;<br>Still he passed, and door by door<br>Opened with a pale outpour,<br>And the revel rose no more<br>Hushed in deeper phantasies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As we passed, the talk and stir<br>Of the quiet wayfarer<br>And the noisy banqueter<br>Died upon the midnight dim.<br>They that reeled in drunken glee<br>Shrank upon the trembling knee,<br>And their jests died pallidly,<br>As they rose and followed him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the street and from the hall,<br>From the flare of festival<br>None that saw him stayed, but all<br>Followed where his wonder would:<br>And our feet at first so few<br>Gathered as those white feet drew<br>To a pallid multitude;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the hushed and awful beat<br>Of our pale unnumbered feet<br>Made a murmur strange and sweet,<br>As we followed evermore.<br>Now the night was almost passed,<br>And the dawn was overcast,<br>When the stranger stayed at last<br>At a great cathedral door.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Never word the stranger said,<br>But he slowly raised his head,<br>And the vast door opened<br>By an unseen hand withdrawn;<br>And in silence wave on wave,<br>Like an army from the grave,<br>Up the aisles and up the nave,<br>All that spectral crowd rolled on.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As I followed close behind,<br>Knowledge like an awful wind<br>Seemed to blow my naked mind<br>Into darkness black and bare;<br>Yet with longing wild and dim,<br>And a terror vast and grim,<br>Nearer still I pressed to him,<br>Till I almost touched his hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the gloom so strange and eery,<br>From the organ low and dreary,<br>Rose the wailing miserere,<br>By mysterious voices sung;<br>And a dim light shone, none knew,<br>How it came, or whence it grew,<br>From the dusky roof and through<br>All the solemn spaces flung.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But the stranger still passed on,<br>Till he reached the alter stone,<br>And with body white and prone<br>Sunk his forehead to the floor;<br>And I saw in my despair,<br>Standing like a spirit there,<br>How his head was bruised and bare,<br>And his hand were clenched before,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How his hair was fouled and knit<br>With the blood that clotted it,<br>Where the prickled thorns had bit<br>In his crowned agony;<br>In his hands so wan and blue,<br>Leaning out, I saw the two<br>Marks of where the nails pierced through,<br>Once on gloomy Calvary.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then with trembling throat I owned<br>All my dark sin unatoned,<br>Telling it with lips that moaned,<br>And methought an echo came<br>From the bended crowd below,<br>Each one breathing faint and low,<br>Sins that none but he might know:<br>'Master I did curse thy name.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I saw him slowly rise<br>With his sad unearthly eyes,<br>Meeting mine with meek surprise,<br>And a voice came solemnly:<br>'Never more on mortal ground<br>For they soul shall rest be found,<br>But when bells at midnight sound<br>Thou must rise and come with me.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then my forehead smote the floor,<br>Swooning, and I knew no more,<br>Till I heard the chancel door<br>Open for the choristers:<br>But the stranger's form was gone,<br>And the church was dim and lone:<br>Through the silence, one by one<br>Stole the early worshippers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I an ageing now I know;<br>That was many years ago,<br>Yet or I shall rest below<br>In the grave where none intrude,<br>Night by night I roam the street,<br>And that awful form I meet,<br>And I follow pale and fleet,<br>With a ghostly multitude.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Every night I see his face,<br>With its sad and burdened grace,<br>And the torn and bloody trace,<br>That in hands and feet he has.<br>Once my life was dark and bad;<br>Now its days are strange and sad,<br>And the people call me mad:<br>See, they whisper as they pass.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Even now the echoes roll<br>From the swinging bells that toll;<br>It is midnight, now my soul<br>Hasten, for he glideth by.<br>Stranger, 'tis no phantasie:<br>Look! my master waits for me<br>Mutely, but thou canst not see<br>With the mortal blinded eye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Archibald+Lampman">Archibald Lampman</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348116" data-title="Easter Eve de Archibald Lampman" data-description="Hear me, Brother, gently met;
Just a little, turn, not yet,
Thou shalt laugh, and soon forget:
Now the midnight draweth near.
I have little more to tell;
Soon with hallow stroke and knell,
Thou shalt count the palace bell,
Calling that the hour is..."></div>
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