“This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin”

Easter by Edmund Spenser (1552-1599)

MOST glorious Lord of Lyfe! that, on this day,

Didst make Thy triumph over death and sin;

And, having harrowed hell, didst bring away

Captivity thence captive, us to win:

This joyous day, deare Lord, with joy begin;

And grant that we, for whom thou diddest dye,

Being with Thy deare blood clene washt from sin,

May live for ever in felicity!

And that Thy love we weighing worthily,

May likewise love Thee for the same againe;

And for Thy sake, that all lyke deare didst buy,

With love may one another entertayne!

So let us love, deare Love, lyke as we ought,

–Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.

via Easter – Poem by Edmund Spenser.

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  • David

    A Good Friday complement:

    I was there when they crucified my Lord.
    At the cross there I stood in disbelief.
    Oh, still am I struck by His dying word!
    “I thirst,” said He, but the wine no relief.
    A man of sorrows, acquainted with grief,
    No form had He that we look at Him should,
    But repentant, to Christ, thus spoke the thief,
    “In Your Kingdom, me, remember You would!”
    If these things we do when green is the wood,
    Ask now what will happen when it is dry.
    There at the cross as a beggar I stood,
    “My God, my God” the ninth hour He cried.
    The Father lay Him in the dust of death,
    Head bowed, “It is finished” His dying breath.

  • David

    A Good Friday complement:

    I was there when they crucified my Lord.
    At the cross there I stood in disbelief.
    Oh, still am I struck by His dying word!
    “I thirst,” said He, but the wine no relief.
    A man of sorrows, acquainted with grief,
    No form had He that we look at Him should,
    But repentant, to Christ, thus spoke the thief,
    “In Your Kingdom, me, remember You would!”
    If these things we do when green is the wood,
    Ask now what will happen when it is dry.
    There at the cross as a beggar I stood,
    “My God, my God” the ninth hour He cried.
    The Father lay Him in the dust of death,
    Head bowed, “It is finished” His dying breath.