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The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes — Volume 2
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But now they say—neither above the sphere
Nor down in the heart of man,
But solely in fancy, ambition, and fear
The thought of thee began.
If only that perfect tale were true
Which ages have not made old,
Which of endless many makes one anew,
And simplicity manifold!
But he taught that they who did his word
The truth of it sure would know:
I will try to do it: if he be lord
Again the old faith will glow;
Again the old spirit-wind will blow
That he promised to their prayer;
And obeying the Son, I too shall know
His father everywhere!
A FEAR
O Mother Earth, I have a fear
Which I would tell to thee—
Softly and gently in thine ear
When the moon and we are three.
Thy grass and flowers are beautiful;
Among thy trees I hide;
And underneath the moonlight cool
Thy sea looks broad and wide;
But this I fear—lest thou shouldst grow
To me so small and strange,
So distant I should never know
On thee a shade of change,
Although great earthquakes should uplift
Deep mountains from their base,
And thy continual motion shift
The lands upon thy face;—
The grass, the flowers, the dews that lie
Upon them as before—
Driven upwards evermore, lest I
Should love these things no more.
Even now thou dimly hast a place
In deep star galaxies!
And I, driven ever on through space,
Have lost thee in the skies!
THE LOST HOUSE
Out of thy door I run to do the thing
That calls upon me. Straight the wind of words
Whoops from mine ears the sounds of them that sing
About their work, "My God, my father-king!"
I turn in haste to see thy blessed door,
But, lo, a cloud of flies and bats and birds,
And stalking vapours, and vague monster-herds
Have risen and lighted, rushed and swollen between!
Ah me! the house of peace is there no more.
Was it a dream then?—Walls, fireside, and floor,
And sweet obedience, loving, calm, and free,
Are vanished—gone as they had never been!
I labour groaning. Comes a sudden sheen!—
And I am kneeling at my father's knee,
Sighing with joy, and hoping utterly.
THE TALK OF THE ECHOES
A FRAGMENT
When the cock crows loud from the glen,
And the moor-cock chirrs from the heather,
What hear ye and see ye then,
Ye children of air and ether?
1st Echo.
A thunder as of waves at the rising of the moon,
And a darkness on the graves though the day is at its noon.
2nd Echo. A springing as of grass though the air is damp and chill,
And a glimmer from the river that winds about the hill.
1st Echo. A lapse of crags that leant from the mountain's earthen sheath, And a shock of ruin sent on the river underneath.
2nd Echo. A sound as of a building that groweth fair and good,
And a piping of the thrushes from the hollow of the wood.
1st Echo. A wailing as of lambs that have wandered from the flock,
And a bleating of their dams that was answered from the rock.
2nd Echo. A breathing as of cattle in the shadow where they dream,
And a sound of children playing with the pebbles in the stream.
Другие электронные книги автора George MacDonald
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Удивительная книга. Как никогда актуальна сегодня. Язык и стиль автора настолько тонок, лёгок и изыскан, что легко поведёт читателя в мир героев, кото...
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