Morning is Easter on the lawns,
And trim and flowered along the avenue
The girls go summering to church and season
Announced by heel-taps to the view.
Under the open window hats and ribbons
Declare for Spring O find me, I am young
Or, passing now, the sudden nervous giggle
Speaks on the light for Whom the hymn is sung.
See, see me, I am fair, and would arrive
Across the slant and stair of early light
To lord and lover. As grass many,
Or single as the night.
… Because the year is stirring underfoot
Where choir-sung dryads from the Spring-flushed wood
Cry longing on the hush of Eucharist,
The bread and wine, the body and the blood.
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