The white flowers, freed
From snowy sepulchres, may speak
“Oh, fear not ye!
The Saviour whom ye seek
Is risen indeed!
-Frances R. Havergal
From the eternal shadow rounding
All our sun and starlight here,
Voices of our lost ones sounding
Bid us be of heart and cheer
Through silence, down the spaces, falling on the inward ear
Know we not our dead are looking
Downward with sad surprise,
At our strife of words and rebuking
With their mild and loving eyes?
Shall we grieve these holy angels? Shall we cloud their blessed skies?
-John Greenleaf Whittier.