Poem by Jones Very

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.

1. The Grave Yard
2. The Spirit Land
3. The War
4. The Fair Morning
5. The New Birth

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