Poems by Jones Very
The Rose
... Nor shall new plants from out thy scattered seed, ...
Nature
... The birds know when the friend they love is nigh, ...
On Visiting the Graves of Hawthorne and Thoreau
... That has a glimpse of such bright regions caught! ...
The Call
... Thy sandals seize, gird on thy clothes, ...
Memory
... But the heart,how fond t'will treasure ...
Beauty
... The world was but a spot where thou hadst trod, ...
The Columbine
... My weary eyes shall close like folding flowers in sleep ...
Autumn Leaves
... Yet think thou not their beauteous tints less fairThan when they hung so gayly o'er thy head ...
The Cup
... s its sleeping dead,And bids them through Himself ascend on highTo Him who is of all the living Head ...
The Eye and Ear
... how dark before! Each object throws aside its mantle dim, That hid the starry robe that once it wore ...
The Hand and the Foot
... They cannot from their path mistaken stray,Though 't is not theirs, yet in it they are blest ...
