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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


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Read books online » Poetry » The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes - Volume 1 by George MacDonald (finding audrey .txt) 📖

Book online «The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes - Volume 1 by George MacDonald (finding audrey .txt) 📖». Author George MacDonald



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can not be far away.

But the place he loveth best,
Place where he himself can rest,

Where alone he prayer doth seek,
Is the spirit of the meek.

To the humble God doth come;
In his heart he makes his home.


GOING TO SLEEP .


Little one, you must not fret
That I take your clothes away;
Better sleep you so will get,
And at morning wake more gay-
Saith the children's mother.

You I must unclothe again,
For you need a better dress;
Too much worn are body and brain;
You need everlastingness-
Saith the heavenly father.

I went down death's lonely stair;
Laid my garments in the tomb;
Dressed again one morning fair;
Hastened up, and hied me home-
Saith the elder brother.

Then I will not be afraid
Any ill can come to me;
When 'tis time to go to bed,
I will rise and go with thee-
Saith the little brother.


TO-MORROW .


My TO-MORROW is but a flitting
Fancy of the brain;
God's TO-MORROW an angel sitting,
Ready for joy or pain.

My TO-MORROW has no soul,
Dead as yesterdays;
God's-a brimming silver bowl
Of life that gleams and plays.

My TO-MORROW, I mock you away!
Shadowless nothing, thou!
God's TO-MORROW, come, dear day,
For God is in thee now.


FOOLISH CHILDREN .


Waking in the night to pray,
Sleeping when the answer comes,
Foolish are we even at play-
Tearfully we beat our drums!
Cast the good dry bread away,
Weep, and gather up the crumbs!

"Evermore," while shines the day,
"Lord," we cry, "thy will be done!"
Soon as evening groweth gray,
Thy fair will we fain would shun!
"Take, oh, take thy hand away!
See the horrid dark begun!"

"Thou hast conquered Death," we say,
"Christ, whom Hades could not keep!"
Then, "Ah, see the pallid clay!
Death it is," we cry, "not sleep!
Grave, take all. Shut out the Day.
Sit we on the ground and weep!"

Gathering potsherds all the day,
Truant children, Lord, we roam;
Fret, and longer want to play,
When at cool thy voice doth come!-
Elder Brother, lead the way;
Make us good as we go home.


LOVE IS HOME .


Love is the part, and love is the whole;
Love is the robe, and love is the pall;
Ruler of heart and brain and soul,
Love is the lord and the slave of all!
I thank thee, Love, that thou lov'st me;
I thank thee more that I love thee.

Love is the rain, and love is the air,
Love is the earth that holdeth fast;
Love is the root that is buried there,
Love is the open flower at last!
I thank thee, Love all round about,
That the eyes of my love are looking out.

Love is the sun, and love is the sea;
Love is the tide that comes and goes;
Flowing and flowing it comes to me;
Ebbing and ebbing to thee it flows!
Oh my sun, and my wind, and tide!
My sea, and my shore, and all beside!

Light, oh light that art by showing;
Wind, oh wind that liv'st by motion;
Thought, oh thought that art by knowing;
Will, that art born in self-devotion!
Love is you, though not all of you know it;
Ye are not love, yet ye always show it!

Faithful creator, heart-longed-for father,
Home of our heart-infolded brother,
Home to thee all thy glories gather-
All are thy love, and there is no other!
O Love-at-rest, we loves that roam-
Home unto thee, we are coming home!


FAITH .


"Earth, if aught should check thy race,
Rushing through unfended space,
Headlong, stayless, thou wilt fall
Into yonder glowing ball!"

"Beggar of the universe,
Faithless as an empty purse!
Sent abroad to cool and tame,
Think'st I fear my native flame?"

"If thou never on thy track
Turn thee round and hie thee back,
Thou wilt wander evermore,
Outcast, cold-a comet hoar!"

"While I sweep my ring along
In an air of joyous song,
Thou art drifting, heart awry,
From the sun of liberty!"


WAITING .


I waited for the Master
In the darkness dumb;
Light came fast and faster-
My light did not come!

I waited all the daylight,
All through noon's hot flame:
In the evening's gray light,
Lo, the Master came!


OUR SHIP .


Had I a great ship coming home,
With big plunge o'er the sea,
What bright things, hid from star and foam,
Lay in her heart for thee!

The stormy billows heave and dip,
The wild winds veer and play;
But, regnant all, God's stately ship
Is steering home this way!


MY HEART THY LARK .


Why dost thou want to sing
When thou hast no song, my heart?
If there be in thee a hidden spring,
Wherefore will no word start?

On its way thou hearest no song,
Yet flutters thy unborn joy!
The years of thy life are growing long-
Art still the heart of a boy?-

Father, I am thy child!
My heart is in thy hand!
Let it hear some echo, with gladness wild,
Of a song in thy high land.

It will answer-but how, my God,
Thou knowest; I cannot say:
It will spring, I know, thy lark, from thy sod-
Thy lark to meet thy day!


TWO IN ONE .


Were thou and I the white pinions
On some eager, heaven-born dove,
Swift would we mount to the old dominions,
To our rest of old, my love!

Were thou and I trembling strands
In music's enchanted line,
We would wait and wait for magic hands
To untwist the magic twine.

Were we two sky-tints, thou and I,
Thou the golden, I the red;
We would quiver and glow and darken and die,
And love until we were dead!

Nearer than wings of one dove,
Than tones or colours in chord,
We are one-and safe, and for ever, my love,
Two thoughts in the heart of one Lord.


BEDTIME .


"Come, children, put away your toys;
Roll up that kite's long line;
The day is done for girls and boys-
Look, it is almost nine!
Come, weary foot, and sleepy head,
Get up, and come along to bed."

The children, loath, must yet obey;
Up the long stair they creep;
Lie down, and something sing or say
Until they fall asleep,
To steal through caverns of the night
Into the morning's golden light.

We, elder ones, sit up more late,
And tasks unfinished ply,
But, gently busy, watch and wait-
Dear sister, you and I,
To hear the Father, with soft tread,
Coming to carry us to bed.


A PRAYER .


Thou who mad'st the mighty clock
Of the great world go;
Mad'st its pendulum swing and rock,
Ceaseless to and fro;
Thou whose will doth push and draw
Every orb in heaven,
Help me move by higher law
In my spirit graven.

Like a planet let me swing-
With intention strong;
In my orbit rushing 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,
God'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
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