Explore "Resurrection" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Pausing a moment ere the day was done, / While yet the earth was scintillant with light, / I backward glanced. From valley, plain, and height, / At intervals, where my life-path had run, / Rose cross on cross; and nailed upon each one / Was my dead self. And yet that gruesome sight / Lent sudden splendour to the falling night, / Showing the conquests that my soul had won.
Up to the rising stars I looked and cried, / ‘There is no death! for year on year, re-born / I wake to larger life: to joy more great, / So many times have I been crucified, / So often seen the resurrection morn, / I go triumphant, though new Calvaries wait.