The Complete Poetical Works of George MacDonald. George MacDonald

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ And flowing unreprest.

      The o'ertasked will falls down aghast

       In individual death;

       God puts aside the severed past,

       Breathes-in a primal breath.

      For how should torture breed a calm?

       Can death to life give birth?

       No labour can create the balm

       That soothes the sleeping earth!

      I yet will hope the very One

       Whose love is life in me,

       Did, when my strength was overdone,

       Inspire serenity.

      XVII.

      When the hot sun's too urgent might

       Hath shrunk the tender leaf,

       Water comes sliding down the night,

       And makes its sorrow brief.

      When poet's heart is in eclipse,

       A glance from childhood's eye,

       A smile from passing maiden's lips,

       Will clear a glowing sky.

      Might not from God such influence come

       A dying hope to lift?

       Might he not send to poor heart some

       Unmediated gift?

      My child lies moaning, lost in dreams,

       Abandoned, sore dismayed;

       Her fancy's world with horror teems,

       Her soul is much afraid:

      I lay my hand upon her breast,

       Her moaning dies away;

       She does not wake, but, lost in rest,

       Sleeps on into the day.

      And when my heart with soft release

       Grows calm as summer-sea,

       Shall I not hope the God of peace

       Hath laid his hand on me?

      XVIII.

      But why from thought should fresh doubt start—

       An ever-lengthening cord?

       Might he not make my troubled heart

       Right sure it was the Lord?

      God will not let a smaller boon

       Hinder the coming best;

       A granted sign might all too soon

       Rejoice thee into rest.

      Yet could not any sign, though grand

       As hosts of fire about,

       Though lovely as a sunset-land,

       Secure thy soul from doubt.

      A smile from one thou lovedst well

       Gladdened thee all the day;

       The doubt which all day far did dwell

       Came home with twilight gray.

      For doubt will come, will ever come,

       Though signs be perfect good,

       Till heart to heart strike doubting dumb,

       And both are understood.

      XIX.

      I shall behold him, one day, nigh.

       Assailed with glory keen,

       My eyes will open wide, and I

       Shall see as I am seen.

      Of nothing can my heart be sure

       Except the highest, best

       When God I see with vision pure,

       That sight will be my rest.

      Forward I look with longing eye,

       And still my hope renew;

       Backward, and think that from the sky

       Did come that falling dew.

      XX.

      But if a vision should unfold

       That I might banish fear;

       That I, the chosen, might be bold,

       And walk with upright cheer;

      My heart would cry: But shares my race

       In this great love of thine?

       I pray, put me not in good case

       Where others lack and pine.

      Nor claim I thus a loving heart

       That for itself is mute:

       In such love I desire no part

       As reaches not my root.

      But if my brothers thou dost call

       As children to thy knee,

       Thou givest me my being's all,

       Thou sayest child to me.

      If thou to me alone shouldst give,

       My heart were all beguiled:

       It would not be because I live,

       And am my Father's child!

      XXI.

      As little comfort would it bring,

       Amid a throng to pass;

       To stand with thousands worshipping

       Upon the sea of glass;

      To know that, of a sinful world,

       I one СКАЧАТЬ