 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Good Ground
The Word must fall; but where the well-tilled groundWithout a stone or briar to choke the seed;
Where can the deep, black earth it needs be found,
That shall the plant with plenteous juices feed?
Break up your fallow lands! the seed is sown
With heaven's own richness in each bosom's field,
Cut down the tares that rankly there have grown,
And heavy crops the word of God shall yield;
Cut down your will that sows the deadly tare,
That bears no fruit but for your own dark breast;
Cut down, nor let a root the sharp axe spare,
Then shall my land enjoy its day of rest;
And he that reaps rejoice with Him who sows,
While through the loaded field he daily goes.
Poem No. 599; late 1838–early 1839
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |