The Easter Green

Not dross, but dressed with good,

Is this gold air;

Not bald nor bare

But bearded like a god

Grown old more fair.

Dazed from the pit I see

Glazes of holy light

On day and diamond night;

Through every sun I hear

The chiming aconite.

By husk and darkness fed

My appetite grows keen,

By buried lusts made lean

Child-tongued I suck sweet bread

And kiss the virgin green.

I, from the well new-drawn,

With root and flower am crowned -

Drowsed, but not drowned.

The Easter-father blesses with a lamb;

The son is not disowned.

So shall I know, come fall,

Come flesh returning frail,

This shriving shall not fail:

The green blood flushing at the heart

Anoints the prodigal.