rhapsody March 20th, 2008
(an Easter Ballad)
By Ernestine Cobern Beyer
The trees flung up their branches
And in the dark they cried:
“On one of us long, long ago,
The Lord was crucified!”
A weeping sapling murmured:
“Alas, how can I grow?
On one of us the Savior died.
I would I did not know!”
And all night long a sighing
Became a brimming flood;
Petals fell like teardrops,
And sap ran forth like blood.
Until at dawn of morning
From whirling clouds of flame,
A Voice consoled the forest
And comforted its shame.
“Blame not, O trees, your brother,
For this I say to you:
The tree that was to be the cross
Knew not for what it grew.
“It loved the sun, the starlight;
It sheltered nesting birds.
Its boughs were stirred with music,
It sang with leaves for words.
“In innocence and beauty
It grew from day to day,
And in its peaceful shadow
I often knelt to pray.
“Then came that grievous morning–
The day men did the Wrong.
They stripped me of my garments,
The tree, of leaf and song.
“I died. I rose to heaven
Where cherubim shone bright
And stood in dazzled wonder
Before the Glory Light.
“And while the angels gathered
To welcome me and sing,
I bade the tree to Paradise
And God’s eternal spring.
Beneath its boughs the cherubs
New-come to Heaven play
Until their eyes, grown stronger,
Can bear the Glory Ray.
“So harken, tossing branches!
Let every tree adore
The Cross that is the symbol
Of love forevermore.”
Then cried the little sapling:
“Sing out that all is well.
Ye twinkle-footed rivers,
Run ’round the earth and tell.
“Rejoice, rejoice, my brothers!
Come praise with windy lute
The Tree that bore the Savior.
(O blest and piteous fruit!)
Praise, praise the Tree of Heaven
Nor let one leaf be mute!”
