Jones Very : The Complete Poems | ||
The Holy Land
I go not on a pilgrimage,
As those, who went of old;
The holy land around us lies,
Of which we have been told.
As those, who went of old;
The holy land around us lies,
Of which we have been told.
'Tis everywhere. The pure in heart
Alone can enter in,
And those, whom grace and love have made
Forever free from sin.
Alone can enter in,
And those, whom grace and love have made
Forever free from sin.
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I see it, when the morning sun
Doth rise o'er land and sea;
The moon's mild beams, the silent stars,
Reveal it unto me.
Doth rise o'er land and sea;
The moon's mild beams, the silent stars,
Reveal it unto me.
In all that's good, in all that's fair,
I see its glory shine;
As in the holy land of old,
The ancient Palestine.
I see its glory shine;
As in the holy land of old,
The ancient Palestine.
Wherever Freedom, Truth prevail,
Wherever God is known;
That land is still Jehovah's land
He calls it still his own.
Wherever God is known;
That land is still Jehovah's land
He calls it still his own.
And brighter yet, in days to come,
Shall shine its wondrous light;
Till all the earth is holy land,
With heavenly radiance bright.
Shall shine its wondrous light;
Till all the earth is holy land,
With heavenly radiance bright.
I go not on a pilgrimage,
As those, who went of old;
The holy land around us lies,
Of which we have been told.
As those, who went of old;
The holy land around us lies,
Of which we have been told.
Poem No. 233; c. 1 September 1866
Jones Very : The Complete Poems | ||