Poem by Helen Gray Cone

A Resurrection

 Neither would they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.

  I was quick in the flesh, was warm, and the live heart shook my breast;
    In the market I bought and sold, in the temple I bowed my head.
  I had swathed me in shows and forms, and was honored above the rest
    For the sake of the life I lived; nor did any esteem me dead.

  But at last, when the hour was ripe—was it sudden-remembered word?
    Was it sight of a bird that mounted, or sound of a strain that
          stole?
  I was 'ware of a spell that snapped, of an inward strength that
        stirred,
    Of a Presence that filled that place; and it shone, and I knew
          my Soul.

  And the dream I had called my life was a garment about my feet,
    For the web of the years was rent with the throe of a
          yearning strong.
  With a sweep as of winds in heaven, with a rush as of flames that meet,
    The Flesh and the Spirit clasped; and I cried, "Was I dead so long?"

  I had glimpse of the Secret, flashed through the symbol obscure
        and mean,
    And I felt as a fire what erst I repeated with lips of clay;
  And I knew for the things eternal the things eye hath not seen;
    Yea, the heavens and the earth shall pass; but they never
          shall pass away.

  And the miracle on me wrought, in the streets I would straight
        make known:
    "When this marvel of mine is heard, without cavil shall men receive
  Any legend of haloed saint, staring up through the sealèd stone!"
    So I spake in the trodden ways; but behold, there would none believe!

1. Retrospect
2. The Going out of the Tide
3. Madonna Pia
4. The Trumpeter
5. In Winter, with the Book We Read in Spring

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