Learn More

Jones Very

(28 August 1813 – 8 May 1880 / Salem, Massachusetts)

I Was Sick And In Prison


Thou hast not left the rough-barked tree to grow
Without a mate upon the river's bank;
Nor dost Thou on one flower the rain bestow,
But many a cup the glittering drops has drank;
The bird must sing to one who sings again,
Else would her note less welcome be to hear;
Nor hast Thou bid thy word descend in vain,
But soon some answering voice shall reach my ear;
Then shall the brotherhood of peace begin,
And the new song be raised that never dies,
That shall the soul from death and darkness win,
And burst the prison where the captive lies;
And one by one new-born shall join the strain,
Till earth restores her sons to heaven again.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (I Was Sick And In Prison by Jones Very )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  2. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
  3. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  4. Christmas Trees, Robert Frost
  5. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  6. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  7. Television, Roald Dahl
  8. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
  9. Hymn To Joy, Friedrich Schiller
  10. Design, Robert Frost

Poem of the Day

poet Emily Jane Brontë

I am the only being whose doom
No tongue would ask no eye would mourn
I never caused a thought of gloom
A smile of joy since I was born

In secret pleasure - secret tears
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]