The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1888-04-05

Botanists tell US that flowers breathe.
they take nourishment. they eat, they
drink. They are sensitive. They have
their likes and dislikes. They sleep. they
wake. They i've in families. They
have their ancestors and their descend
ants, their birth, their burial. their cradle.
their grave. The zephyr rocks the one.
and tlA7 storm digs the trench for the
other. The comslip must leave its goll,
the lily must leave its silver, the rose
must leave its diamond necklace of morn
i.4g dow. Dust to dust. So we come
u. yse prosper, we spread abroad, we
die. as the fower- as the flower!
Change and decay on all around Isee;
O thou who chAngest not, abide with me!
Flowers also afford mighty symbolism
of Christ, who compared himself to the
ancient queen, the lily, and the modern
queen, the rose, when he said: II am
the rose of Sharon and the lily of the
Valleys Redolent like the one, humble
like the other. Like both, appropriate
for the sad, who want sympathizers, and
for the rejoicing; who want banuueters.
lowering over the marriage ceremony
like a wedding bell, or folded like a
chaplet on the pulseless heart of the
dead. -
Oh, Christi let the perfume of thy
name be waited n around the earth
lily and rose and rose-until the
wilderness crian u into gSx1en, and
the round earth slrn into one green bud
of immortal beauty laid against the
warm heart of God. Snatch down from
l,cx
put on lily and rose, lily and rose.
But, my friends, flowers have no
grander use than when on Easter morn
ing we celebrate the termination of
Christ from the catacombs. All the
flowers of today spell resurrection.
There is not a nook or corner in all the
building but is touched with the incense.
The women carried spices to the tomb
of Christ, and they dropped spices all
around about the tomb, and from those
spices have grown all the flowers of
Easter morn. The two white robed
angels that hurled the stone away from
the door of the tomb, hurled it with such
violence down the hill that it crashed in
the door of the worlds sepulcher, and
millions Of the stark and dead shall come
forth.
However labyrinthian the mausoleum,
however costly the sarcophagus, however
architecturally grand the metropolis,
however beautifully parterred the family
grounds, we want them all broken up by
the lord of the resurrection. The forms
that we laid away with our broken hearts
must rise again. Father and mother
they must come out. Husband and wife
they must come out. Brothers and
sisters they must come out. Our darling
childrcn-they must come out. The eyes
that with trembling fingers we closed
must open IN the luster of resurrection
morn. The arms that we folded in death
must join ours in embrace of reunion
The beloved voice that was hushed must
be returned. The beloved form must
come Up without its infirnlities, without
its fatigues-it must come up.
Oh, how long it-seenls for some of you.
| Waiting waiting for the resurrection.
| How long! how longl 1 make for your
broken hearts today q cool, soft bandage
| Of Easier lilies. Last night we had come in
| the mails a beautiful Easter carbon the
| top of 1t a representation Of that exquis-
! ite flower called the trumpet creeper, +"
and under it the inscriptions: 1.-The
trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall
be raised. comfort you this day with
| the thought of resurrection.
When Lord Nelson was buried in St.
| Paul9 cathedral in London, the heart Of
all England was stirred. The procession
passed on amid the sobbing of nation
There We're thirty trumpeters stationed
at the door of the cathedral, with instru-
lnelsis u nlus;eS u hand, waiting for tse
sl~liGl, and whsss xr-o iIiustrious dead
arrived at the gates of st. Paul's cathe-
dral these thirty trumpeters gave one
united blast, and then all was silent.
Yet the trumpets did not wake the dead.
He slept right on.
But I have to tell you what thirty
sTumpeters could not do for one man
one trumpeter viii do for all nations.
The ages have rolled on, and the clock
Of the worlds destiny strikes nine, ten,
eleven, twelve, and time shall be nc
| longeri
Behold the a-changel lowering. He
takes the trumpet, points it this way,
puts its lips to his lips, and then blows
one long, loud, terrific, thunderous,
reverberating and resurrectiouary blast
Look! Look! They rise! The dead
The dead! Some coming forth from the
family vault. Some from the city GEM
etery. Some from the country grave
yard. Here spirit is joined to its body
and there another spirit is joined to an
other body, and millions of departed
spirits are asserting the bodies and ther
reclothing themselves in forms now
radiant for ascension.
The earth begins to burn-the bonfire
Of great victory. All ready now fol
the procession of reconstructed humanity
Upward and away! Christ leads and al
the Christian dead follow, battalion aftel
battalion, nation after nation. Up, up
On, on! Forward, ye ranks of God AL
mighty Lift up your heads, ye ever
lasting gates, and let the conqueror
come in! Resurrection! Resurrection
And SO twist all the festal flowers O
this church with all the festal flowers o
chapels and cathedrals of all Christen
dom into one great chain, and with tha
chain bind the Easter morning of 1888
with the closing Easter of the world
history-Resurrection! May the God o
peace that brought again from the dea'
our Lord Jesus, that great shepherd O
sheep, through the blood of the everlast
ing covenant, make you perfect in ever,
good work to do his will.