Now the Green Blade Riseth


Now the green blade riseth from the buried grain,
Wheat that in dark earth many days has lain;
Love lives again, that with the dead has been:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

In the grave they laid him, Love by hatred slain,
Thinking that never he would wake again,
Laid in the earth, like grain that sleeps unseen:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
Love’s touch can call us back to life again,
Fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
