A Hidden Life

Home - George MacDonald - A Hidden Life

Prev | Next | Contents


IV.

As one bestrides a wild scared horse

  Beneath a stormy moon, And still his heart, with quiet force,

  Beats on its own calm tune; So if my heart with trouble now

  Be throbbing in my breast, Thou art my deeper heart, and Thou,

  O God, dost ever rest.

When mighty sea-winds madly blow,

  And tear the scattered waves; As still as summer woods, below

  Lie darkling ocean caves: The wind of words may toss my heart,

  But what is that to me! 'Tis but a surface storm--Thou art

  My deep, still, resting sea.





Prev | Next | Contents