 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
74
Time
There is no moment but whose flight doth bringBright clouds and fluttering leaves to deck my bower,
And I within like some sweet bird must sing
To tell the story of the passing hour;
For time has secrets that no bird has sung,
Nor changing leaf with changing season told;
But waits the utterance of some nobler tongue,
Like that which spoke in prophet tones of old;
Then day and night and month and year shall tell
The tale that speaks but faint from bird and bough;
In spirit songs their praise shall upward swell,
Nor longer pass heaven's gate unheard as now;
But cause e'en angels' ears to catch the strain,
And send it back to earth in joy again.
Poem No. 622; c. 22 December 1838
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |