 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Birthright Church
The birthright church; where shall we find its door,For every new-born soul to enter in;
And, once within, never to leave it more,
To wander in the paths of doubt, and sin?
In churches of the past with crumbling walls,
To which the moss, and climbing ivy cling?
No; from the coming future still it calls,
And to the present doth its promise bring.
City of God, descending out of heaven,
Beheld by seer of old in vision bright!
O may it to our eyes, like his, be given
To see on earth thy mild, and peaceful light;
Shining, with steadfast beams, on childhood's way,
That it from out thy gates no more may stray.
Poem No. 466; c. 26 October 1867
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |