File:The angel at the sepulchre (1890) (14595489479).jpg

Identifier: angelatsepulchre00tiff (find matches)
Title: The angel at the sepulchre
Year: 1890 (1890s)
Authors: Tiffany, Esther Brown, 1858- (from old catalog) Tiffany, William S., (from old catalog) illus
Subjects:
Publisher: Boston, L. Prang and company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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Text Appearing Before Image:
uncheered, disconsolate.Save for the rearing of the babe whose eyesHave never looked upon his fathers face. And so the years creep on, and spring is here,And Easter-tide. At Easter-tide it wasWe met upon the meadows, where the larkWas out before us. In the hush of dawnWe stood, the youths and maidens of the town.All in the blessed morn, to watch the sunLeap in the heavens, as is Easter wont. Again I saw him at the minster mass,And yet again, thrice more, — I count the timesAs children count the swallows in the spring, —And then, a simple burgher maiden I,Yet did he stoop and wed me for his love.And braved his fathers anger and his house.And bode a blissful twelvemonth, till the dinOf battle woke the warrior in his blood,And drove him over sea to Palestine. (Etitcr Gottfried, attired as an atiffclfor the Easter celebration in ike eatheelral.) Agnes. So fair thou standest, and so weak am I,I took thee for the shining messengerOur Father soon must send. Gottfried. Thou shalt not die!
Text Appearing After Image:
The Angel at the Sepulchre. Whom seek ye ? asks the angel of the tomb.And maketh answer Mary Magdalen,Jesus of Nazareth, Him crucified.To whom the angel, Lo, he is not here! And then — but hearken how upon the airThe sacred hymn is swelling, even now. I Cathedral choir. J Pone luctum, Magdalena ! Et Serena lacrymas.Jam non est Simonis coena, Non, cur fletum exprimas :Causae mille sunt Isetandi,Causae mille exultandi: Halleluia! (Cathedral porch. Count Walter, repeating to himself one of his early love songs.\ If God should say, My throne to graceGo pluck me lilies, Azrael,Deaths angel, with his shining face,Would seek the spot where thou dost dwell ; And touching softly as a breath Thy virgin head where thou alone Dost kneel, would whisper, Come, God saith, I will have lilies for my throne. How the fond rh\mes ring echoing in my earsI writ for Agnes in her maidenhoodThat Easter morn. Who is the radiant boyThat sits within upon the sepulchre,angelatsepulchre00tiff

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