 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Corrupt Tree
Fast from thine evil growing will within,Thou hast no other fast than this to keep;
This is the root whence springs all other sin,
This sows the tares while thou art sunk in sleep;
Fast ever here, the voice must be obeyed
That bids thee for the Lord prepare the way;
Too long thine inward prayer has been delayed,
Awake, and in thy soul forever pray;
100
Why cumbers it for years the fertile ground?
Let not a root the axe thou wieldest spare,
Till it no more within thy field be found;
Spare not, and thou shalt reap an hundred fold,
And a new tree shall rise where thou hast felled the old.
Poem No. 117; c. January 1839
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |