 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Seed
Wouldst thou behold my features cleanse thy heartWash out the stains thy will impresses there
And as the clay-stamped images depart
Thou shalt behold my face how wondrous fair
How changed from that thine outward eye must see
It wears no form its searching glance can know
From flesh and blood it now has wrought it free
And in the spirit learns from Christ to grow
That which thou sowest is not that which springs
From the dead grain thou givest to the earth
Each moment's toil an added lustre brings
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From out the seed in Christ that long has lain
Buried beneath the snowy-crusted plain.
Poem No. 853; fall 1838–summer 1839
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |