Rise, heart, thy lord is risen. Sing his praise <br />Without delays, <br />Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise <br />With him may'st rise: <br />That, as his death calcinèd thee to dust, <br />His life may make thee gold, and, much more, just. <br /> <br />Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part <br />With all thy art, <br />The cross taught all wood to resound his name <br />Who bore the same. <br />His stretchèd sinews taught all strings what key <br />Is best to celebrate this most high day. <br /> <br />Consort, both heart and lute, and twist a song <br />Pleasant and long; <br />Or, since all music is but three parts vied <br />And multiplied <br />Oh let thy blessèd Spirit bear a part, <br />And make up our defects with his sweet art.<br /><br />George Herbert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/easter-3/
