$:5 ‘ A
Elie Etate Gollcge Genet.
A VOL. 7. A LEXINGTON, KY., APRIL, 1897. NO. 7. V
Oh, rare as the splendor of lilies,
if And sweet as the violet’s breath, E
Comes the jubilant morning of .Easter,
A triumph of life over death ;
For fresh from the eart-h’s quickened bosom
Full baskets of flowers we bring, _ I
And scatter their satin soft petals
T0 carpet a path for owr King. I
In the countless green blades of the meadow,
The sheen of the daifodil’s gold,
In the tremulous blue on the mountains,
The opaline mist on the wold;
In the tinkle of brooks through the pasture,
The river’s strong sweep to the sea,
Are signs of the day that is hasting p
In gladncss to you and to mc.
So dawn in thy splendor of lilies,
Thy fluttering violet breath,
O jubilant morning of Easter,
p Thou triumph of life over death !
Q For fresh from the earth’s qnickened bosom
_,A. . Full baskets of flowers we bring, A
in And scatter their satin soft petals ¤ I
I To carpet a path for our King. ‘
T. -—-Dumb Animals.