 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
175
The Call
Why art thou not awake my son?
The morning breaks I formed for thee;
And I thus early by thee stand,
Thy new-awakening life to see.
The morning breaks I formed for thee;
And I thus early by thee stand,
Thy new-awakening life to see.
Why art thou not awake my son?
The birds upon the bough rejoice;
And I thus early by thee stand,
To hear with theirs thy tuneful voice.
The birds upon the bough rejoice;
And I thus early by thee stand,
To hear with theirs thy tuneful voice.
Why sleepest thou still? the laborers all
Are in my vineyard, hear them toil;
As for the poor with harvest song,
They treasure up the wine and oil.
Are in my vineyard, hear them toil;
As for the poor with harvest song,
They treasure up the wine and oil.
I come to wake thee; haste, arise,
Or thou no share with me can find;
Thy sandals seize, gird on thy clothes,
Or I must leave thee here behind.
Or thou no share with me can find;
Thy sandals seize, gird on thy clothes,
Or I must leave thee here behind.
Poem No. 816; summer 1839
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