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The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes — Volume 1
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Thy grief and pain to quell;
Into thy heart himself will go,
And that will make thee well.
MORNING HYMN
O Lord of life, thy quickening voice
Awakes my morning song!
In gladsome words I would rejoice
That I to thee belong.
I see thy light, I feel thy wind;
The world, it is thy word;
Whatever wakes my heart and mind,
Thy presence is, my Lord.
The living soul which I call me
Doth love, and long to know;
It is a thought of living thee,
Nor forth of thee can go.
Therefore I choose my highest part,
And turn my face to thee;
Therefore I stir my inmost heart
To worship fervently.
Lord, let me live and will this day—
Keep rising from the dead;
Lord, make my spirit good and gay—
Give me my daily bread.
Within my heart, speak, Lord, speak on,
My heart alive to keep,
Till comes the night, and, labour done,
In thee I fall asleep.
NOONTIDE HYMN
I love thy skies, thy sunny mists,
Thy fields, thy mountains hoar,
Thy wind that bloweth where it lists—
Thy will, I love it more.
I love thy hidden truth to seek
All round, in sea, on shore;
The arts whereby like gods we speak—
Thy will to me is more.
I love thy men and women, Lord,
The children round thy door;
Calm thoughts that inward strength afford—
Thy will than these is more.
But when thy will my life doth hold
Thine to the very core,
The world, which that same will doth mould,
I love, then, ten times more!
EVENING HYMN
O God, whose daylight leadeth down
Into the sunless way,
Who with restoring sleep dost crown
The labour of the day!
What I have done, Lord, make it clean
With thy forgiveness dear;
That so to-day what might have been,
To-morrow may appear.
And when my thought is all astray,
Yet think thou on in me;
That with the new-born innocent day
My soul rise fresh and free.
Nor let me wander all in vain
Through dreams that mock and flee;
But even in visions of the brain,
Go wandering toward thee.
THE HOLY MIDNIGHT
Ah, holy midnight of the soul,
When stars alone are high;
When winds are resting at their goal,
And sea-waves only sigh!
Ambition faints from out the will;
Asleep sad longing lies;
All hope of good, all fear of ill,
All need of action dies;
Because God is, and claims the life
He kindled in thy brain;
And thou in him, rapt far from strife,
Diest and liv'st again.
RONDEL
I follow, tottering, in the funeral train
Into thy heart himself will go,
And that will make thee well.
MORNING HYMN
O Lord of life, thy quickening voice
Awakes my morning song!
In gladsome words I would rejoice
That I to thee belong.
I see thy light, I feel thy wind;
The world, it is thy word;
Whatever wakes my heart and mind,
Thy presence is, my Lord.
The living soul which I call me
Doth love, and long to know;
It is a thought of living thee,
Nor forth of thee can go.
Therefore I choose my highest part,
And turn my face to thee;
Therefore I stir my inmost heart
To worship fervently.
Lord, let me live and will this day—
Keep rising from the dead;
Lord, make my spirit good and gay—
Give me my daily bread.
Within my heart, speak, Lord, speak on,
My heart alive to keep,
Till comes the night, and, labour done,
In thee I fall asleep.
NOONTIDE HYMN
I love thy skies, thy sunny mists,
Thy fields, thy mountains hoar,
Thy wind that bloweth where it lists—
Thy will, I love it more.
I love thy hidden truth to seek
All round, in sea, on shore;
The arts whereby like gods we speak—
Thy will to me is more.
I love thy men and women, Lord,
The children round thy door;
Calm thoughts that inward strength afford—
Thy will than these is more.
But when thy will my life doth hold
Thine to the very core,
The world, which that same will doth mould,
I love, then, ten times more!
EVENING HYMN
O God, whose daylight leadeth down
Into the sunless way,
Who with restoring sleep dost crown
The labour of the day!
What I have done, Lord, make it clean
With thy forgiveness dear;
That so to-day what might have been,
To-morrow may appear.
And when my thought is all astray,
Yet think thou on in me;
That with the new-born innocent day
My soul rise fresh and free.
Nor let me wander all in vain
Through dreams that mock and flee;
But even in visions of the brain,
Go wandering toward thee.
THE HOLY MIDNIGHT
Ah, holy midnight of the soul,
When stars alone are high;
When winds are resting at their goal,
And sea-waves only sigh!
Ambition faints from out the will;
Asleep sad longing lies;
All hope of good, all fear of ill,
All need of action dies;
Because God is, and claims the life
He kindled in thy brain;
And thou in him, rapt far from strife,
Diest and liv'st again.
RONDEL
I follow, tottering, in the funeral train
Другие электронные книги автора George MacDonald
Последний отзыв
очень хорошая книга для студентов и учителей