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The Children
I saw, strange sight! the children sat at meat,When they their Parent's face had never known;
Nor rose they when they heard his step to greet,
But feasted there upon his gifts alone;
'Twas morn, and noon, and evening hour the same;
They heeded not 'twas He who gave them bread;
For they had not yet learned to call his name,
They had been children, but they now were dead;
Yet still their Father, with a father's care,
Early and late stood waiting by their board;
Hoping each hour that they his love would share,
And at his table sit to life restored;
Alas! for many a day and year I stood
And saw them feasting thus yet knew not Him how good.
Poem No. 261; fall 1838–summer 1839
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |