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A Hidden Life and Other Poems
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Made their inward longings rise;
Even, of mine, a little song,
Lark-like, rose into the skies.
Here, alas! the self-same folly;
'Twas not for the Truth's sake wholly,
Not for sight of the thing seen,
But for Insight's sake I ween.
Now I die unto all this;
Kiss me, God, with thy cold kiss.
[Sidenote: "I dreamed that Allah kissed me, and his kiss was cold."]
All self-seeking I forsake;
In my soul a silence make.
There was joy to feel I could,
That I had some power of good,
That I was not vainly tost:
Now I'm empty, empty quite;
Fill me, God, or I am lost;
In my spirit shines no light;
All the outer world's wild press
Crushes in my emptiness.
Am I giving all away?
Will the sky be always grey?
Never more this heart of mine
Beat like heart refreshed with wine?
I shall die of misery,
If Thou, God, come not to me.
[Sidenote: Dead indeed unto Sin.]
Now 'tis finished. So depart
All untruth from out my heart;
All false ways of speaking, thinking;
All false ways of looking, linking;
All that is not true and real,
Tending not to God's Ideal:
Help me—how shall human breath
Word Thy meaning in this death!
[Sidenote: How is no matter, so that he wake to Life and Sight.]
Now come hither. Bring that tool.
Its name I know not; but its use
Written on its shape in full
Tells me it is no abuse
If I strike a hole withal
Through this thick opposed wall.
The rainbow-pavement! Never heed it—
What is that, where light is needed?
Where? I care not; quickest best.
What kind of window would I choose?
Foolish man, what sort of hues
Would you have to paint the East,
When each hill and valley lies
Hungering for the sun to rise?
'Tis an opening that I want;
Let the light in, that is all;
Needful knowledge it will grant.
How to frame the window tall.
Who at morning ever lies
Thinking how to ope his eyes?
This room's eyelids I will ope,
Make a morning as I may;
'Tis the time for work and hope;
Night is waning near the day.
I bethink me, workman priest;
It were best to pierce the wall
Where the thickness is the least—
Nearer there the light-beams fall,
Sooner with our dark to mix—
That niche where stands the Crucifix.
"The Crucifix! what! impious task!
Wilt thou break into its shrine?
Taint with human the Divine?"
Friend, did Godhead wear a mask
Of the human? or did it
Choose a form for Godhead fit?
[Sidenote: The form must yield to the Truth.]
Brother with the rugged crown
Won by being all divine,
This my form may come to Thine:
Gently thus I lift Thee down;
Lovingly, O marble cold,
Thee with human hands I fold,
And I set Thee thus aside,
Human rightly deified!
God, by manhood glorified!
[Sidenote: Nothing less than the Cross would satisfy the Godhead for its own assertion and vindication.]
Thinkest thou that Christ did stand
Shutting God from out the land?
Hiding from His children's eyes
Dayspring in the holy skies?
Stood He not with loving eye
On one side, to bring us nigh?
Even, of mine, a little song,
Lark-like, rose into the skies.
Here, alas! the self-same folly;
'Twas not for the Truth's sake wholly,
Not for sight of the thing seen,
But for Insight's sake I ween.
Now I die unto all this;
Kiss me, God, with thy cold kiss.
[Sidenote: "I dreamed that Allah kissed me, and his kiss was cold."]
All self-seeking I forsake;
In my soul a silence make.
There was joy to feel I could,
That I had some power of good,
That I was not vainly tost:
Now I'm empty, empty quite;
Fill me, God, or I am lost;
In my spirit shines no light;
All the outer world's wild press
Crushes in my emptiness.
Am I giving all away?
Will the sky be always grey?
Never more this heart of mine
Beat like heart refreshed with wine?
I shall die of misery,
If Thou, God, come not to me.
[Sidenote: Dead indeed unto Sin.]
Now 'tis finished. So depart
All untruth from out my heart;
All false ways of speaking, thinking;
All false ways of looking, linking;
All that is not true and real,
Tending not to God's Ideal:
Help me—how shall human breath
Word Thy meaning in this death!
[Sidenote: How is no matter, so that he wake to Life and Sight.]
Now come hither. Bring that tool.
Its name I know not; but its use
Written on its shape in full
Tells me it is no abuse
If I strike a hole withal
Through this thick opposed wall.
The rainbow-pavement! Never heed it—
What is that, where light is needed?
Where? I care not; quickest best.
What kind of window would I choose?
Foolish man, what sort of hues
Would you have to paint the East,
When each hill and valley lies
Hungering for the sun to rise?
'Tis an opening that I want;
Let the light in, that is all;
Needful knowledge it will grant.
How to frame the window tall.
Who at morning ever lies
Thinking how to ope his eyes?
This room's eyelids I will ope,
Make a morning as I may;
'Tis the time for work and hope;
Night is waning near the day.
I bethink me, workman priest;
It were best to pierce the wall
Where the thickness is the least—
Nearer there the light-beams fall,
Sooner with our dark to mix—
That niche where stands the Crucifix.
"The Crucifix! what! impious task!
Wilt thou break into its shrine?
Taint with human the Divine?"
Friend, did Godhead wear a mask
Of the human? or did it
Choose a form for Godhead fit?
[Sidenote: The form must yield to the Truth.]
Brother with the rugged crown
Won by being all divine,
This my form may come to Thine:
Gently thus I lift Thee down;
Lovingly, O marble cold,
Thee with human hands I fold,
And I set Thee thus aside,
Human rightly deified!
God, by manhood glorified!
[Sidenote: Nothing less than the Cross would satisfy the Godhead for its own assertion and vindication.]
Thinkest thou that Christ did stand
Shutting God from out the land?
Hiding from His children's eyes
Dayspring in the holy skies?
Stood He not with loving eye
On one side, to bring us nigh?
Другие электронные книги автора George MacDonald
Последний отзыв
Книга дельная. Без воды, приводятся реальные кейсы и способы их разрешения. Много практичных полезных советов и методик. Кое-что уже испробовала в дел...
Далее