The Poetical Works of George MacDonald
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Years have passed o'er my broken plan
To picture out a strife,
Where ancient Death, in horror wan,
Faced young and fearing Life.
More of the tale I tell not so--
But for myself would say:
My heart is quiet with what I know,
With what I hope, is gay.
- And
- where I cannot set my faith, Unknowing or unwise,
I say "If this be what he saith,
Here hidden treasure lies."
Through years gone by since thus I strove,
Thus shadowed out my strife,
While at my history I wove,
Thou wovest in the life.
Through poverty that had no lack
For friends divinely good;
Through pain that not too long did rack,
Through love that understood;
Through light that taught me what to hold
And what to cast away;
Through thy forgiveness manifold,
And things I cannot say,
Here thou hast brought me--able now
To kiss thy garment's hem,
Entirely to thy will to bow,
And trust thee even for them
- Who
- in the darkness and the mire Walk with rebellious feet,
Loose trailing, Lo, their soiled attire
For heavenly floor unmeet!
Lord Jesus Christ, I know not how--
With this blue air, blue sea,
This yellow sand, that grassy brow,
All isolating me--
- Thy
- thoughts to mine themselves impart, My thoughts to thine draw near;
- But
- thou canst fill who mad'st my heart, Who gav'st me words must hear.
Thou mad'st the hand with which I write,
The eye that watches slow
Through rosy gates that rosy light
Across thy threshold go;
Those waves that bend in golden spray,
As if thy foot they bore:
I think I know thee, Lord, to-day,
Shall know thee evermore.
I know thy father thine and mine:
Thou the great fact hast bared:
Master, the mighty words are thine--
Such I had never dared!
Lord, thou hast much to make me yet--
Thy father's infant still:
- Thy
- mind, Son, in my bosom set, That I may grow thy will.
My soul with truth clothe all about,
And I shall question free:
- The
- man that feareth, Lord, to doubt, In that fear doubteth thee.