The poetical works of George MacDonald - BestLightNovel.com
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Like a planet let me swing-- With intention strong; In my orbit rus.h.i.+ng sing Jubilant along; Help me answer in my course To my seasons due; Lord of every stayless force, Make my Willing true.
_A SONG PRAYER_.
Lord Jesus, Oh, ease us Of Self that oppresses, Annoys and distresses Body and brain With dull pain!
Thou never, Since ever, Save one moment only, Wast left, or wast lonely: We are alone, And make moan.
Far parted, Dull-hearted, We wander, sleep-walking, Mere shadows, dim-stalking: Orphans we roam, Far from home.
Oh new man, Sole human, G.o.d's son, and our brother, Give each to the other-- No one left out In cold doubt!
High Father, Oh gather Thy sons and thy daughters, Through fires and through waters, Home to the nest Of thy breast!
There under The wonder Of great wings of healing, Of love and revealing, Teach us anew To sing true.
SONGS OF THE DAYS AND NIGHTS.
_SONGS OF THE SUMMER DAYS_.
I.
A glory on the chamber wall!
A glory in the brain!
Triumphant floods of glory fall On heath, and wold, and plain.
Earth lieth still in hopeless bliss; She has, and seeks no more; Forgets that days come after this, Forgets the days before.
Each ripple waves a flickering fire Of gladness, as it runs; They laugh and flash, and leap and spire, And toss ten thousand suns.
But hark! low, in the world within, One sad aeolian tone: "Ah! shall we ever, ever win A summer of our own?"
II.
A morn of winds and swaying trees-- Earth's jubilance rus.h.i.+ng out!
The birds are fighting with the breeze; The waters heave about.
White clouds are swept across the sky, Their shadows o'er the graves; Purpling the green, they float and fly Athwart the sunny waves.
The long gra.s.s--an earth-rooted sea-- Mimics the watery strife.
To boat or horse? Wild motion we Shall find harmonious life.
But whither? Roll and sweep and bend Suffice for Nature's part; But motion to an endless end Is needful for our heart.
III.
The morn awakes like brooding dove, With outspread wings of gray; Her feathery clouds close in above, And roof a sober day.
No motion in the deeps of air!
No trembling in the leaves!
A still contentment everywhere, That neither laughs nor grieves!
A film of sheeted silver gray Shuts in the ocean's hue; White-winged feluccas cleave their way In paths of gorgeous blue.
Dream on, dream on, O dreamy day, Thy very clouds are dreams!
Yon child is dreaming far away-- He is not where he seems.
IV.
The lark is up, his faith is strong, He mounts the morning air; Lone voice of all the creature throng, He sings the morning prayer.
Slow clouds from north and south appear, Black-based, with s.h.i.+ning slope; In sullen forms their might they rear, And climb the vaulted cope.
A lightning flash, a thunder boom!-- Nor sun nor clouds are there; A single, all-pervading gloom Hangs in the heavy air.
A weeping, wasting afternoon Weighs down the aspiring corn; Amber and red, the sunset soon Leads back to golden morn.
_SONGS OF THE SUMMER NIGHTS_.
I.
The dreary wind of night is out, Homeless and wandering slow; O'er pale seas moaning like a doubt, It breathes, but will not blow.
It sighs from out the helpless past, Where doleful things abide; Gray ghosts of dead thought sail aghast Across its ebbing tide.
O'er marshy pools it faints and flows, All deaf and dumb and blind; O'er moor and mountain aimless goes-- The listless woesome wind!
Nay, nay!--breathe on, sweet wind of night!
The sigh is all in me; Flow, fan, and blow, with gentle might, Until I wake and see.
