"Easter Morn" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A truth that has long lain buried 

At Superstition's door, 

I see, in the dawn uprising 

In all its strength once more 

Hidden away in the darkness, 

By Ignorance crucified, 

Crushed under stones of dogmas - 

Yet lo! it has not died. 

It stands in the light transfigured, 

It speaks from the heights above, 

"EACH SOUL IS ITS OWN REDEEMER;

THERE IS NO LAW BUT LOVE." 

And the spirits of men are gladdened 

As they welcome this Truth re-born 

With its feet on the grave of Error 

And its eyes to the Easter Morn.

- Ella Wheeler Wilcox