Jones Very

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

Jones Very Poems

1. The Call 4/21/2010
2. The Jew 4/21/2010
3. The Morning Watch 4/21/2010
4. The Clay 4/21/2010
5. The Earth 4/21/2010
6. The Heart 4/21/2010
7. The Idler 4/21/2010
8. The Disciple 4/21/2010
9. The New World 4/21/2010
10. Thy Brother's Blood 4/21/2010
11. The Wind-Flower 4/21/2010
12. The Robin 4/21/2010
13. To The Painted Columbine 4/21/2010
14. The Rose 4/21/2010
15. The Presence 4/21/2010
16. The Cottage 4/21/2010
17. The Garden 1/1/2004
18. The Tree 4/21/2010
19. The Living God 4/21/2010
20. The Gifts Of God 4/21/2010
21. The Poor 4/21/2010
22. The Spirit Land 4/21/2010
23. To The Canary Bird 4/21/2010
24. To The Pure All Things Are Pure 4/21/2010
25. Who Hath Ears To Hear Let Him Hear 4/21/2010
26. The Trees Of Life 4/21/2010
27. The Soldier 4/21/2010
28. The Son 4/21/2010
29. Time 4/21/2010
30. The Prayer 4/21/2010
31. The War 4/21/2010
32. To The Hummingbird 4/21/2010
33. The Grave Yard 4/21/2010
34. The Spirit 4/21/2010
35. The Stranger's Gift 4/21/2010
36. Yourself 4/21/2010
37. The Robe 4/21/2010
38. The Old Road 4/21/2010
39. The Light From Within 4/21/2010
40. Night 4/21/2010

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Best Poem of Jones Very

Nature

The bubbling brook doth leap when I come by,
Because my feet find measure with its call;
The birds know when the friend they love is nigh,
For I am known to them, both great and small.
The flower that on the lonely hillside grows
Expects me there when spring its bloom has given;
And many a tree and bush my wanderings knows,
And e'en the clouds and silent stars of heaven;
For he who with his Maker walks aright,
Shall be their lord as Adam was before;
His ear shall catch each sound with new delight,
Each object wear the dress that then it wore;
And...

Read the full of Nature

Life

IT is not life upon Thy gifts to live,
But, to grow fixed with deeper roots in Thee;
And when the sun and shower their bounties give,
To send out thick-leaved limbs; a fruitful tree,
Whose green head meets the eye for many a mile,
Whose moss-grown arms their rigid branches rear,
And full-faced fruits their blushing welcome smile
As to its goodly shade our feet draw near;
Who tastes its gifts shall never hunger more,

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