It was several years ago when I was coming home from an Easter Sunday dawn service when these words came into my head. I didn’t have a tune, or time to get out my guitar before the morning service at 10.30am, so I just went to the front of the church and started singing. The Holy Spirit (and Milton Evans on back-up guitar) did the rest.
I don’t call it Easter. I prefer to call it Resurrection Day. Ēostre was a pagan fertility goddess, according to the Ven. Bede. Some of my best friends call themselves pagans, but . . .