 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Unrevealed
Hast thou stolen aught from hunger, or in thirstWithheld the water-cup from thy parched lips,
That thou mightest speak the blessed words of hope
And joy; thou shalt not lack reward. Loosened
Thy tongue shall with sweet-flowing sounds surprize
The ear of sense; another than thyself
Will be seen within to have come, and bringing
Music tones from other spheres to have made
Thee ever the harp of hidden minstrelsy. Forms
Of heaven as seen descending on the eye
Shall strike, giving to that men cannot see
A place and name amongst earth's dying sons.
Poem No. 159; fall 1838–summer 1839
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |