Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Home Again by George MacDonald (audio ebook reader TXT) 📖
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- Author: George MacDonald
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a song,
And mirthless laugh with mirth!
Though sad, he must confront the wrong,
And for the right face any throng,
Waiting, with patience sweet and strong,
Until God's glory fills the earth;
Then shall he sing who had no song,
He laugh who had no mirth!
Yea, if like barren rock thou sit
Upon a land of dearth,
Round which but phantom waters flit,
Of visionary birth-
Yet be thou still, and wait, wait long;
There comes a sea to drown the wrong,
His glory shall o'erwhelm the earth,
And thou, no more a scathed rock,
Shall start alive with gladsome shock,
Shalt a hand-clapping billow be,
And shout with the eternal sea!
To righteousness and love belong
The dance, the jubilance, the song!
For, lo, the right hath quelled the wrong,
And truth hath stilled the lying tongue!
For, lo, the glad God fills the earth.
And Love sits down by every hearth!
Now must thou sing because of song,
Now laugh because of mirth!
Molly read the verses, and rose to run with them to her father. But Walter caught and held her.
"Remember, Molly," he said, "I wrote it for my father; it is not my own feeling at the moment. For me, God has sent a wave of his glory over the earth; it has come swelling out of the deep sea of his thought, has caught me up, and is making me joyful as the morning. That wave is my love for you, Molly-is you, my Molly!"
She turned and kissed him, then ran to his father. He read, turned, and kissed Molly.
In his heart he sung this song:
"Blessed art thou among women! for thou hast given me a son of consolation!"
And to Molly he said,
"Let us go to Walter!"
THE END.
Imprint
And mirthless laugh with mirth!
Though sad, he must confront the wrong,
And for the right face any throng,
Waiting, with patience sweet and strong,
Until God's glory fills the earth;
Then shall he sing who had no song,
He laugh who had no mirth!
Yea, if like barren rock thou sit
Upon a land of dearth,
Round which but phantom waters flit,
Of visionary birth-
Yet be thou still, and wait, wait long;
There comes a sea to drown the wrong,
His glory shall o'erwhelm the earth,
And thou, no more a scathed rock,
Shall start alive with gladsome shock,
Shalt a hand-clapping billow be,
And shout with the eternal sea!
To righteousness and love belong
The dance, the jubilance, the song!
For, lo, the right hath quelled the wrong,
And truth hath stilled the lying tongue!
For, lo, the glad God fills the earth.
And Love sits down by every hearth!
Now must thou sing because of song,
Now laugh because of mirth!
Molly read the verses, and rose to run with them to her father. But Walter caught and held her.
"Remember, Molly," he said, "I wrote it for my father; it is not my own feeling at the moment. For me, God has sent a wave of his glory over the earth; it has come swelling out of the deep sea of his thought, has caught me up, and is making me joyful as the morning. That wave is my love for you, Molly-is you, my Molly!"
She turned and kissed him, then ran to his father. He read, turned, and kissed Molly.
In his heart he sung this song:
"Blessed art thou among women! for thou hast given me a son of consolation!"
And to Molly he said,
"Let us go to Walter!"
THE END.
Imprint
Publication Date: 05-21-2008
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