Welcome to easter poems - -you will find a wide selection of Poems at Poem4Today.
Poetry is an excellent way of expressing our thoughts at this time of thought and celebration. You may wish to use poetry during an Easter service, for your own meditation, or as a family reading on Easter Day.
If you would like more ideas for best poems for easter and some great ideas, visit Special Moments link.
I hope you enjoy these two christian inspirational poems that I have chosen, both with a religious theme.
Easter George Herbert (1593-1632)
I got me flowers to straw Thy way, I got me boughs off many a tree; But Thou wast up by break of day, And brought'st Thy sweets along with Thee. Yet though my flowers be lost, they say A heart can never come too late; Teach it to sing Thy praise this day, And then this day my life shall date.
The Shadow of the Cross John McCrae (1872-1918)
At the drowsy dusk when the shadows creep From the golden west, where the sunbeams sleep, An angel mused: "Is there good or ill In the mad world's heart, since on Calvary's hill 'Round the cross a mid-day twilight fell That darkened earth and o'ershadowed hell?" Through the streets of a city the angel sped; Like an open scroll men's hearts he read. In a monarch's ear his courtiers lied And humble faces hid hearts of pride. Men's hate waxed hot, and their hearts grew cold, As they haggled and fought for the lust of gold. Despairing, he cried, "After all these years Is there naught but hatred and strife and tears?" He found two waifs in an attic bare; -- A single crust was their meagre fare -- One strove to quiet the other's cries, And the love-light dawned in her famished eyes As she kissed the child with a motherly air: "I don't need mine, you can have my share." Then the angel knew that the earthly cross And the sorrow and shame were not wholly loss. At dawn, when hushed was earth's busy hum And men looked not for their Christ to come, From the attic poor to the palace grand, The King and the beggar went hand in hand.
An Easter Offering Blance Burbank
I watched a lily through the Lenten-tide; From when its emerald sheath first pierced the mould. I saw the satin blades uncurl, unfold, And, softly upward, stretch with conscious pride Toward the fair sky. At length, the leaves beside, There came a flower beauteous to behold, Breathing of purest joy and peace untold; Its radiance graced the Easter altar-side. And in my heart there rose a sense of shame That I, alas, no precious gift had brought Which could approach the beauty of this thing-- I who had sought to bear the Master's name! Humbly I bowed while meek repentance wrought, With silent tears, her chastened offering.
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