 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Disciple
Thou wilt my hands employ, though others findNo work for those who praise thy name aright;
And in their worldly wisdom call them blind,
Whom Thou hast blest with thine own spirit's sight;
But while they find no work for Thee to do,
And blindly on themselves alone rely;
Thy child must suffer what Thou sufferest too,
And learn from him Thou sent e'en so to die;
Thou art my Father, Thou wilt give me aid
To bear the wrong the spirit suffers here;
Thou hast thy help upon the mighty laid,
In him I trust, nor know to want or fear;
But ever onward walk secure from sin,
For he has conquered every foe within.
Poem No. 703; c. January 1839
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