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Jones Very (Джонс Вери)


Thy Brother's Blood


I have no Brother—they who meet me now
Offer a hand with their own will defiled,
And while they wear a smooth unwrinkled brow,
Know not that Truth can never be beguiled;
Go wash the hand that still betrays thy guilt;
Before the spirit's gaze what stain can hide?
Abel's red blood upon the earth is spilt,
And by their tongue it cannot be denied;
I hear not with the ear—the heart doth tell
Its secret deeds to me untold before;
Go, all its hidden plunder quickly sell,
Then shalt thou cleanse thee from thy brother's gore,
Then will I take thy gift—that bloody stain
Shall not be seen upon thy hand again.

February 2, 1839

Jones Very's other poems:
  1. The Dead
  2. Faith
  3. The New Birth
  4. The Fair Morning
  5. The Clouded Morning


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