The Complete Poetical Works of George MacDonald. George MacDonald

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СКАЧАТЬ Thus far upon its journey home to God.

       By poor attempts to do the things he said,

       Faith has been born; free will become a fact;

       And love grown strong to enter into his,

       And know the spirit that inhabits there.

       One day his truth will spring to life in me,

       And make me free, as God says "I am free."

       When I am like him, then my soul will dawn

       With the full glory of the God revealed—

       Full as to me, though but one beam from him;

       The light will shine, for I shall comprehend it:

       In his light I shall see light. God can speak,

       Yea, will speak to me then, and I shall hear. Not yet like him, how can I hear his words?

      [Stopping by the crib, and bending over the child.]

      My darling child! God's little daughter, drest

       In human clothes, that light may thus be clad

       In shining, so to reach my human eyes!

       Come as a little Christ from heaven to earth,

       To call me father, that my heart may know What father means, and turn its eyes to God! Sometimes I feel, when thou art clinging to me, How all unfit this heart of mine to have The guardianship of a bright thing like thee, Come to entice, allure me back to God By flitting round me, gleaming of thy home, And radiating of thy purity Into my stained heart; which unto thee Shall ever show the father, answering The divine childhood dwelling in thine eyes. O how thou teachest me with thy sweet ways, All ignorant of wherefore thou art come, And what thou art to me, my heavenly ward, Whose eyes have drunk that secret place's light And pour it forth on me! God bless his own!

      [He resumes his walk, singing in a low voice.]

      My child woke crying from her sleep;

       I bended o'er her bed,

       And soothed her, till in slumber deep

       She from the darkness fled.

      And as beside my child I stood,

       A still voice said in me—

       "Even thus thy Father, strong and good,

       Is bending over thee."

      SCENE II.—Rooms in Lord Seaford's house. A large company; dancers; gentlemen looking on.

      1_st Gentleman_.

       Henry, what dark-haired queen is that? She moves

       As if her body were instinct with thought,

       Moulded to motion by the music's waves,

       As floats the swan upon the swelling lake;

       Or as in dreams one sees an angel move,

       Sweeping on slow wings through the buoyant air,

       Then folding them, and turning on his track.

      2_nd_.

       You seem inspired; nor can I wonder at it;

       She is a glorious woman; and such eyes!

       Think—to be loved by such a woman now!

      1_st_.

       You have seen her, then, before: what is her name?

      2_nd_.

       I saw her once; but could not learn her name.

      3_rd_.

       She is the wife of an Italian count,

       Who for some cause, political I think,

       Took refuge in this country. His estates

       The Church has eaten up, as I have heard:

       Mephisto says the Church has a good stomach.

      2_nd_.

       How do they live?

      3_rd_.

       Poorly, I should suppose;

       For she gives Lady Gertrude music-lessons:

       That's how they know her.—Ah, you should hear her sing!

      2_nd_.

       If she sings as she looks or as she dances,

       It were as well for me I did not hear.

      3_rd_.

       If Count Lamballa followed Lady Seaford

       To heaven, I know who'd follow her on earth.

      SCENE III.—Julian's room. LILY asleep.

      Julian. I wish she would come home. When the child wakes, I cannot bear to see her eyes first rest On me, then wander searching through the room, And then return and rest. And yet, poor Lilia! 'Tis nothing strange thou shouldst be glad to go From this dull place, and for a few short hours Have thy lost girlhood given back to thee; For thou art very young for such hard things As poor men's wives in cities must endure.

      I am afraid the thought is not at rest,

       But rises still, that she is not my wife—

       Not truly, lawfully. I hoped the child

       Would kill that fancy; but I fear instead,

       She thinks I have begun to think the same—

       Thinks that it lies a heavy weight of sin

       Upon my heart. Alas, my Lilia!

       When every time I pray, I pray that God

       Would look and see that thou and I be one!

      Lily (starting up in her crib). Oh, take me! take me!

      Julian (going up to her with a smile). What is the matter with my little child?

      Lily. I don't know, father; I was very frightened.

      Julian. 'Twas nothing but a dream. Look—I am with you.

      Lily. I am wake now; I know you're there; but then I did not know it.

      [Smiling.]

      Julian. Lie down now, darling. Go СКАЧАТЬ