The poetical works of George MacDonald Volume I Part 72

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 s.p.a.ce, 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 h.o.a.r!"

"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, G.o.d'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 G.o.d, 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.