 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
Faith
There is no faith; the mountain stands withinStill unrebuked, its summit reaches heaven;
And every action adds its load of sin,
For every action wants the little leaven;
There is no prayer; it is but empty sound,
That stirs with frequent breath the yielding air;
With every pulse they are more strongly bound,
Who make the blood of goats the voice of prayer;
Oh heal them, heal them Father with thy word,
Their sins cry out to Thee from every side;
From son and sire, from slave and master heard,
Their voices fill the desert country wide;
And bid Thee hasten to relieve and save,
By him who rose triumphant o'er the grave.
Poem No. 620; late 1838–early 1839
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |