An Easter Dream is a poem by Caris Brooke, a pseudonym of Saretta Green, the half sister of E.Nesbit.
An Easter Dream
THE Easter flowers all freshly bloomed
To grace my dear Lord’s feast;
And where the guests so thickly thronged
I stood, the last and least.
To grace my dear Lord’s feast;
And where the guests so thickly thronged
I stood, the last and least.
For here were gathered offerings sweet,
From wood and garden fair.
And hidden lanes and lonely dells,
Had heaped their treasures there.
From wood and garden fair.
And hidden lanes and lonely dells,
Had heaped their treasures there.
One brought a rose, whose crimson heart
A life’s deep incense breathed;
And one with blue forget-me-nots
His chalices had wreathed.
And one with blue forget-me-nots
His chalices had wreathed.
A carpet all of buttercups
Gleamed golden in the sun,
These, little children’s hands had plucked,
And strewn there one by one.
Gleamed golden in the sun,
These, little children’s hands had plucked,
And strewn there one by one.
One, in the garden of his life.
No flowers had found to save,
So gathered as he came along
A daisy from a grave.
No flowers had found to save,
So gathered as he came along
A daisy from a grave.
And one a little store of herbs
ln humble faith had brought,
And laid them ‘neath a lily’s leaf,
Nor greater notice sought.
ln humble faith had brought,
And laid them ‘neath a lily’s leaf,
Nor greater notice sought.
No flower had I, no herb nor leaf.
Alone beyond the gate,
I dared not enter where the guests
Christ’s speedy coming wait.
Alone beyond the gate,
I dared not enter where the guests
Christ’s speedy coming wait.
” Yet do I love as well as they,
Yet would I sup, dear Lord,
No more at any earthly feast
But at Thy sacred board.”
Yet would I sup, dear Lord,
No more at any earthly feast
But at Thy sacred board.”
Could my deep sorrow plead my cause ?
Would Christ yet hear my prayer ?
Or when His guests had entered in,
Must I stay lonely there ?
Would Christ yet hear my prayer ?
Or when His guests had entered in,
Must I stay lonely there ?
Ah, doubting heart ! could it not know
That His dear love would greet.
More than all fading earthly flowers,
A heart laid at His feet ?
That His dear love would greet.
More than all fading earthly flowers,
A heart laid at His feet ?
For while I murmured at my dearth,
I heard His tender call,
I looked, and saw a woven crown
Upon my pathway fall.
I heard His tender call,
I looked, and saw a woven crown
Upon my pathway fall.
And while I fitted to my brows
That twisted crown of thorn,
I woke, and heard the happy bells
Ring out the Easter morn.
— Caris Brooke,
That twisted crown of thorn,
I woke, and heard the happy bells
Ring out the Easter morn.
— Caris Brooke,
__________________Anna Blanch is founder of Goannatree, and a PhD candidate in the Institute of Theology, Imagination, and the Arts at St Mary’s College, University of St Andrews, Scotland where she’s presently writing her PhD thesis on E.Nesbit. She is also a regular contributor to Transpositions.
