The Poetical Works of George MacDonald

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VI.

Methinks I hear, as o'er this life's dim dial

The last shades darken, friends say, "_He was good_;"

I

struggling fail to speak my faint denial-- They whisper, "_His humility withstood_."

I, knowing better, part with love unspoken;

And find the unknown world not all unknown:

The bonds that held me from my centre broken,

I seek my home, the Saviour's homely throne.

How he will greet me, walking on, I wonder;

I think I know what I will say to him;

I

fear no sapphire floor of cloudless thunder, I fear no passing vision great and dim.

But he knows all my weary sinful story:

How will he judge me, pure, and strong, and fair?

I

come to him in all his conquered glory, Won from the life that I went dreaming there!

I

come; I fall before him, faintly saying: "Ah, Lord, shall I thy loving pardon win?

Earth tempted me; my walk was but a straying;

I have no honour--but may I come in?"

I

hear him say: "Strong prayer did keep me stable; To me the earth was very lovely too:

Thou shouldst have prayed; I would have made thee able

To love it greatly!--but thou hast got through."

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