 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
Hymn
The Dew
'Tis not the copious rains alone,
Which bless the parched soil;
The gentle dews that nightly fall
Reward the sower's toil.
Which bless the parched soil;
The gentle dews that nightly fall
Reward the sower's toil.
Unseen, unheard the dews descend,
Like slumber on the mind;
And on the thirsty hills, and fields
A blessing leave behind.
Like slumber on the mind;
And on the thirsty hills, and fields
A blessing leave behind.
In the cool stillness of the night
The drooping plants revive,
The grass and every tender herb
With their sweet influence thrive.
The drooping plants revive,
The grass and every tender herb
With their sweet influence thrive.
See, gathered on each pointed blade
How bright the dew-drops shine!
And learn in humble trusting faith
To trace the Hand Divine.
How bright the dew-drops shine!
And learn in humble trusting faith
To trace the Hand Divine.
That, though no clouds their fulness drop
In answer to our prayer;
Still we may own that day by day
Our God for us doth care.
In answer to our prayer;
Still we may own that day by day
Our God for us doth care.
Poem No. 731; c. July 1860
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |