The poetical works of George MacDonald - novelonlinefull.com
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Give all your shillings you might And hurt your brothers the more; He only can serve his fellows aright Who goes in at the little door.
We must do the thing we _must_ Before the thing we _may;_ We are unfit for any trust Till we can and do obey.
_Willie speaks._
I will try more and more; I have nothing now to ask; _Obedience_ I know is the little door: Now set me some hard task.
_The Father answers._
No, Willie; the father of all, Teacher and master high, Has set your task beyond recall, Nothing can set it by.
_Willie speaks._
What is it, father dear, That he would have me do?
I'd ask himself, but he's not near, And so I must ask you!
_The Father answers._
Me 'tis no use to ask, I too am one of his boys!
But he tells each boy his own plain task; Listen, and hear his voice.
_Willie speaks._
Father, I'm listening _so_ To hear him if I may!
His voice must either be very low, Or very far away!
_The Father answers._
It is neither hard to hear, Nor hard to understand; It is very low, but very near, A still, small, strong command.
_Willie answers._
I do not hear it at all; I am only hearing you!
_The Father speaks._
Think: is there nothing, great or small, You ought to go and do?
_Willie answers._
Let me think:--I ought to feed My rabbits. I went away In such a hurry this morning! Indeed They've not had enough to-day!
_The Father speaks._
That is his whisper low!
That is his very word!
You had only to stop and listen, and so Very plainly you heard!
That duty's the little door: You must open it and go in; There is nothing else to do before, There is nowhere else to begin.
_Willie speaks._
But that's so easily done!
It's such a trifling affair!
So nearly over as soon as begun.
For that he can hardly care!
_The Father answers._
You are turning from his call If you let that duty wait; You would not think any duty small If you yourself were great.
The nearest is at life's core; With the first, you all begin: What matter how little the little door If it only let you in?
V.
_Willie speaks._
Papa, I am come again: It is now three months and more That I've tried to do the thing that was plain, And I feel as small as before.
_The Father answers._
Your honour comes too slow?
How much then have you done?
One foot on a mole-heap, would you crow As if you had reached the sun?
_Willie speaks._
But I cannot help a doubt Whether this way be the true: The more I do to work it out The more there comes to do;
And yet, were all done and past, I should feel just as small, For when I had tried to the very last-- 'Twas my duty, after all!
It is only much the same As not being liar or thief!
_The Father answers._
One who tried it found even, with shame, That of sinners he was the chief!
My boy, I am glad indeed You have been finding the truth!
_Willie speaks._
But where's the good? I shall never speed-- Be one whit greater, in sooth!
If duty itself must fail, And that be the only plan, How shall my scarce begun duty prevail To make me a mighty man?
_The Father answers._
Ah, Willie! what if it were Quite another way to fall?
What if the greatness itself lie there-- In knowing that you are small?
