Easter

The air is like a butterfly
    With frail blue wings.
The happy earth looks at the sky
    And sings.

Alfred Joyce Kilmer

Alfred Joyce Kilmer was an American poet, journalist, literary critic, lecturer, and soldier. Though a prolific poet whose works celebrated the common beauty of the natural world, he is best known for a short poem titled 'Trees' (1913), which was published in Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. Kilmer's work has been widely anthologized and remains well-loved. He died during World War I in France at the age of 31.

Alfred Joyce Kilmer

Main Street

Alfred Joyce Kilmer, Simple Poetry

Love's Lantern

Alfred Joyce Kilmer, Simple Poetry

The Annunciation

Alfred Joyce Kilmer, Simple Poetry

Madness

Alfred Joyce Kilmer, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Easter

What exultations in my mind,
From the love-bite of this Easter wind!
My head thrown back, my face doth shine
Like yonder Sun's, but warmer mine.
A butterfly - from who knows where -
Comes with a stagger through the air,
And, lying down, doth ope and close
His wings, as babies work their toes:
Perhaps he thinks of pressing tight
Into his wings a little light!
And many a bird hops in between
The leaves he dreams of, long and green,
And sings for nipple-buds that show
Where the full-breasted leaves must grow.

William Henry Davies

Easter

April 1, 1888

Lent gathers up her cloak of sombre shading
    In her reluctant hands.
Her beauty heightens, fairest in its fading,
    As pensively she stands
Awaiting Easter's benediction falling,
    Like silver stars at night,
Before she can obey the summons calling
    Her to her upward flight,
Awaiting Easter's wings that she must borrow
    Ere she can hope to fly -
Those glorious wings that we shall see to-morrow
    Against the far, blue sky.
Has not the purple of her vesture's lining
    Brought calm and rest to all?
Has her dark robe had naught of golden shining
    Been naught but pleasure's pall?
Who knows? Perhaps when to the world returning
    In youth's light joyousness,
We'll wear some rarer jewels we found burning
  ...

Emily Pauline Johnson

Early Spring

I.

Once more the Heavenly Power
Makes all things new,
And domes the red-plowd hills
With loving blue;
The blackbirds have their wills,
The throstles too.



II.

Opens a door in heaven;
From skies of glass
A Jacobs ladder falls
On greening grass,
And oer the mountain-walls
Young angels pass.



III.

Before them fleets the shower,
And burst the buds,
And shine the level lands,
And flash the floods;
The stars are from their hands
Flung thro the woods,



IV.

The woods with living airs
How softly fannd,
Light airs from where the deep,
All down the sand,
Is breathing in his sleep,
Heard by the land.



V.

O,...

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Easter.

Let all the flowers wake to life;
    Let all the songsters sing;
Let everything that lives on earth
    Become a joyous thing.

Wake up, thou pansy, purple-eyed,
    And greet the dewy spring;
Swell out, ye buds, and o'er the earth
    Thy sweetest fragrance fling.

Why dost thou sleep, sweet violet?
    The earth has need of thee;
Wake up and catch the melody
    That sounds from sea to sea.

Ye stars, that dwell in noonday skies,
    Shine on, though all unseen;
The great White Throne lies just beyond,
    The stars are all between.

Ring out, ye bells, sweet Easter bells,
    And ring the glory in;
Ring out the sorrow, born of earth--
    Ring out the stains of sin.

O banners wide, that sweep the sky,
    ...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Easter.

When dawns on earth the Easter sun
The dear saints feel an answering thrill.
With whitest flowers their hands they fill;
And, singing all in unison,

Unto the battlements they press--
The very marge of heaven--how near!
And bend, and look upon us here
With eyes that rain down tenderness.

Their roses, brimmed with fragrant dew,
Their lilies fair they raise on high;
"Rejoice! The Lord is risen!" they cry;
"Christ is arisen; we prove it true!

"Rejoice, and dry those faithless tears
With which your Easter flowers are stained;
Share in our bliss, who have attained
The rapture of the eternal years;

"Have proved the promise which endures,
The Love that deigned, the Love that died;
Have reached our haven by His side--
Are Christ's...

Susan Coolidge

Easter Week

(Written for music to be sung at a parish industrial exhibition)

See the land, her Easter keeping,
    Rises as her Maker rose.
Seeds, so long in darkness sleeping,
    Burst at last from winter snows.
Earth with heaven above rejoices;
    Fields and gardens hail the spring;
Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices,
    While the wild birds build and sing.

You, to whom your Maker granted
    Powers to those sweet birds unknown,
Use the craft by God implanted;
    Use the reason not your own.
Here, while heaven and earth rejoices,
    Each his Easter tribute bring -
Work of fingers, chant of voices,
    Like the birds who build and sing.

Eversley, 1867.

Charles Kingsley