Here you will find thePoemThe Presenceof poet Jones Very
I sit within my room, and joy to find That Thou who always lov'st, art with me here, That I am never left by Thee behind, But by thyself Thou keep'st me ever near; The fire burns brighter when with Thee I look, And seems a kinder servant sent to me; With gladder heart I read thy holy book, Because thou art the eyes by which I see; This aged chair, that table, watch and door Around in ready service ever wait; Nor can I ask of Thee a menial more To fill the measure of my large estate, For Thou thyself, with all a father's care, Where'er I turn, art ever with me there.
