 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
Night
I thank thee, Father, that the night is nearWhen I this conscious being may resign;
Whose only task thy words of love to hear,
And in thy acts to find each act of mine;
A task too great to give a child like me,
Thy myriad-handed labors of the day
Too many for my closing eyes to see,
Thy words too frequent for my tongue to say;
Yet when thou see'st me burthened by thy love
Each other gift more lovely then appears,
For dark-robed night comes hovering from above
And all thine other gifts to me endears;
And while within her darkened couch I sleep,
Thine eyes untired above will constant vigils keep.
Poem No. 275; c. 24 November 1838
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |