The Poetical Works of George MacDonald

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VII.

Why

search for God? A man I tread This old life-bearing earth;

High thoughts awake and lift my head--

In me they have their birth.

The

preacher says a Christian must Do all the good he can:--

I must be noble, true, and just,

Because I am a man!

They say a man must watch, and keep

Lamp burning, garments white,

Else he shall sit without and weep

When Christ comes home at night:--

A man must hold his honour free,

His conscience must not stain,

Or soil, I say, the dignity

Of heart and blood and brain!

Yes, I say well--said words are cheap!

For action man was born!

What praise will my one talent reap?

What grapes are on my thorn?

Have high words kept me pure enough?

In evil have I no part?

Hath not my bosom "perilous stuff

That weighs upon the heart"?

I am not that which I do praise;

I do not that I say;

I sit a talker in the ways,

A dreamer in the day!

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