 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Heavenly Rest
They do not toil in heaven; they live and love,Their heavenly Father every want supplies;
Nor can they from their blest abode remove,
For nought can enter there, that ever dies.
A life of love! how sweetly pass its hours,
No tear, but that of joy, can touch the cheeks;
Their lips distill, like fragrance-breathing flowers,
The truth which each to each forever speaks.
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The joys, which at His own right hand doth dwell;
Oh, blessed the children, that His praises show,
And of His love in ceaseless worship tell;
And blessed the Lamb, that for their sins was slain,
That they with Him forevermore might reign.
Poem No. 640; winter-spring 1839
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