 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
218
The Word
The Word where is it? hath it voice,
That I may hear it and be free;
Hath it a form, that I may know;
A touch, that I may feel; and see?
That I may hear it and be free;
Hath it a form, that I may know;
A touch, that I may feel; and see?
Where does it dwell? above, below?
Or is it where e'en now I tread?
I would be near it when it calls,
And bids awake the slumbering dead.
Or is it where e'en now I tread?
I would be near it when it calls,
And bids awake the slumbering dead.
'Tis near me; yet I hear it not—
—That voice that cometh down from heaven—
And hide myself in shrinking fear,
When wide above the earth is riven.
—That voice that cometh down from heaven—
And hide myself in shrinking fear,
When wide above the earth is riven.
Oh strengthen in me faith to rise,
And go where'er it leads the way;
That I may live with it as one,
And all that it commands obey.
And go where'er it leads the way;
That I may live with it as one,
And all that it commands obey.
Poem No. 602; early 1840?
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