 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
219
The Pilgrim
'Twas in the winter at the close of day,The snow fell deep upon the traveller's path,
I saw one journeying on infirm and grey
Yet seemed he not to heed the tempest's wrath;
And oft a citizen would ask him in
And sit him down beside him at his board,
Yet soon his weary march would he begin
As if he felt not by the food restored;
I wondering asked him, why he tarried not
To taste the cheer they had so freely given;
And why the sheltering roof he had forgot?
He nothing said; but pointed up to heaven;—
And then I knew the food they gave away,
And home they offered were but for a day.
Poem No. 748; early 1840?
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |