does the sun of spring shine on their graves, than they rise into
sudden life and beauty, as it pleases God, and every seed takes its
own peculiar body. Sown in corruption, they are raised in
incorruption; sown in weakness, they are raised in power; sown in
dishonour, they are raised in glory; delicate, beautiful in colour,
perfuming the air with fragrance; types of immortality, fit for the
crowns of angels. Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow.
For even so is the resurrection of the dead.

Yes, not without a divine providence--yea, a divine inspiration--has
this blessed Easter-tide been fixed, by the Church of all ages, at
the season when the earth shakes off her winter's sleep; when the
birds come back and the flowers begin to bloom; when every seed which
falls into the ground, and dies, and rises again with a new body, is
a witness to us of the resurrection of Christ; and a witness, too,
that we shall rise again; that in us, as in it, life shall conquer
death when every bird which comes back to sing and build among us, is
a witness to us of the resurrection of Christ, and of our
resurrection; and that in us, as in it, joy shall conquer sorrow.

The seed has passed through strange chances and dangers: of a
thousand seeds shed in autumn, scarce one survives to grow in spring.
Be it so. Still there is left, as Scripture says, a remnant, an
elect, to rise again and live.

The birds likewise--they have been through strange chances, dangers,
needs. Far away south to Africa they went--the younger ones by a way
they had never travelled before. Thousands died in their passage
south. Thousands more died in their passage back again this spring,
by hunger and by storm. Be it so. Yet of them is left a seed, a