 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Foe
There is no pause, the day rolls swiftly on;Hour adds to hour its distance Lord! from Thee;
And soon the light Thou givest will be gone,
And night be here, and none thy coming see;
O bid them wake! sound ye the trumpets! sound!
The foe is on you! haste, he's at the door!
Soon, soon thy limbs will be securely bound,
And you in chains your former sloth deplore;
Wake! wake! there is no time to lose in sleep;
Break from the will that binds you still in sin,
A faithful watch o'er every action keep;
And know the foe that spoils thee is within;
Go back, retrace the steps your feet have trod,
That you may find protection in your God.
Poem No. 624; fall 1838–summer 1839
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |