Easter Morning poem by Edna Dean Proctor

The fasts are done; the Aves said;

The moon has filled her horn

And in the solemn night I watch

Before the Easter morn.

So pure, so still the starry heaven,

So hushed the brooding air,

I could hear the sweep of an angel’s wings

If one should earthward fare.

Sphere: Related Content

You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.