Here you will find the Poem The Morning Watch of poet Jones Very
'Tis near the morning watch, the dim lamp burns But scarcely shows how dark the slumbering street; No sound of life the silent mart returns; No friends from house to house their neighbors greet; It is the sleep of death; a deeper sleep Than e'er before on mortal eyelids fell; No stars above the gloom their places keep; No faithful watchmen of the morning tell; Yet still they slumber on, though rising day Hath through their windows poured the awakening light; Or, turning in their sluggard trances, say? 'There yet are many hours to fill the night;' They rise not yet; while on the bridegroom goes 'Till he the day's bright gates forever on them close!
