For this your mother sweated in the cold,
For this you bled upon the bitter tree:
A yard of tinsel ribbon bought and sold;
A paper wreath; a day at home for me.
The merry bells ring out, the people kneel;
Up goes the man of God before the crowd;
With voice of honey and with eyes of steel
He drones your humble gospel to the proud.
Nobody listens. Less than the wind that blows
Are all your words to us you died to save.
O Prince of Peace! O Sharon's dewy Rose!
How mute you lie within your vaulted grave.
The stone the angel rolled away with tears
Is back upon your mouth these thousand years.
See  Matthew 28,  in which an angel rolls the stone away from Jesus’s tomb, revealing it to be empty: 
 
 Matthew 28:1: In the end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to see the sepulchre. 
 Matthew 28:2: And, behold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it. 
 Matthew 28:3: His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow: 
 Matthew 28:4: And for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became as dead men. 
 Matthew 28:5: And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. 
 Matthew 28:6: He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. 
 
 There are variations among the four gospels; only in Matthew is an angel specifically credited with rolling away the stone. In the other gospels the women simply discover that the stone has been rolled away, and the tomb is mysteriously empty. 
 The angel’s tears appear to be Millay’s invention.
To Jesus on His Birthday