Good Friday

So we forget?  The streets bloom gay
   With festive garments, many hued;
And man and maid laugh down the way
   With all the joy of life imbued.
Respite from toil, surcease from care
   Lend gladness to a merry voice,
As brother cries to brother there,
         "Let us rejoice."

Do we forget?  The garden blooms;
   Joy beckons from the sunlit hill,
Where now no triple shadow looms
   To cast o'er all the earth a chill.
This day is made for carefree souls!
   For holiday!  For Eastertide! ...
Yet, thro' it all a bell still tolls
         For One Who died.