Holy Weekend
Friday.
Despair , creation!. Droop, you mournful boughs
In verdant shades!. Hus, singing birds, your notes,
And be you sad as sombre cypresses
And sober as dark, melancholy yews!.
For God, Who made you all,
Has died upon a tree.
Saturday.
Gay, Spring-fresh flowers!. Haste to hide yourselves
Amongst wan, pale-faced snowdrops, deep in gloom!.
Cease frolicking, you beasts, and solemn stand!.
Be silent, you buzz insects, mute as fish!.
For God today lies dead
In dismal cavern-grave.
Sunday.
Rejoice, creation!. Flowers, birds and beasts
Exult!. Disport yourselves in jubilee!.
Hum, insects!. Sparkle, fish!. Be fruitful, trees!.
B ear witness to a timeless miracle!.
For God, Who once was dead,
Now lives eternally!.
Our souls from death’s corruption have been won;
To God be praise!. To Him be honour done!.
