 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Birds
The birds are singing still their songs
In vale, and leafy wood;
As when the earth itself was made,
And all was fair and good.
In vale, and leafy wood;
As when the earth itself was made,
And all was fair and good.
They sing as if no death were here,
No suffering, pain, disease;
And sweet their notes at morning's hour
Are borne upon the breeze.
No suffering, pain, disease;
And sweet their notes at morning's hour
Are borne upon the breeze.
No want they know, like suffering man,
Whom famine vexes sore;
For God doth for their wants provide,
From out his liberal store.
Whom famine vexes sore;
For God doth for their wants provide,
From out his liberal store.
Ye heralds of the early Spring!
Would I your joy might share;
And learn, though evil still abounds,
That all is good and fair.
Would I your joy might share;
And learn, though evil still abounds,
That all is good and fair.
465
That every thing, which God has made,
E'en sinful, suffering man;
Is part, though dimly now perceived,
Of one all gracious plan.
E'en sinful, suffering man;
Is part, though dimly now perceived,
Of one all gracious plan.
For faith a future doth reveal,
To which all beings tend;
A future on the earth, in heaven,
And sin and suffering end.
To which all beings tend;
A future on the earth, in heaven,
And sin and suffering end.
Poem No. 464; c. 19 May 1874
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |