 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Flood
I cannot eat my bread; the people's sinsCall for a day of fasting on my soul;
For the great day of mourning now begins,
The tears of shame adown their faces roll;
Alas, can naught avert the coming gloom,
That rises in the east a midnight cloud?
No thunders burst to warn them of their doom,
No faithful watchmen raise their voices loud;
They eat, they drink, they marry still as then,
When o'er the world the flood in fury rolled,
Alas, the fire will fall upon the men,
That are to sin and death in bondage sold;
And they nor see, nor heed the coming flame,
But perish all unsuccored in their shame.
Poem No. 218; c. January 1839
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