The poetical works of George MacDonald Volume I Part 77

One southern eve like this, the dew Had cooled and left the ground; The moon hung half-way from the blue, No disc, but conglobed round;

Light-leaved acacias, by the door, Bathed in the balmy air, Cl.u.s.ters of blossomed moonlight bore, And breathed a perfume rare;

Great gold-flakes from the starry sky Fell flashing on the deep: One scent of moist earth floating by, Almost it made me weep.

II.

Those gorgeous stars were not my own, They made me alien go!

The mother o'er her head had thrown A veil I did not know!

The moon-blanched fields that seaward went, The palm-flung, dusky shades, Bore flowering gra.s.ses, knotted, bent, No slender, spear-like blades.

I longed to see the starry host Afar in fainter blue; But plenteous gra.s.s I missed the most, With daisies glimmering through.

The common things were not the same!

I longed across the foam: From dew-damp earth that odour came-- I knew the world my home.

III.

The stars are glad in gulfy s.p.a.ce-- Friendly the dark to them!

From day's deep mine, their hiding-place, Night wooeth every gem.

A thing for faith 'mid labour's jar, When up the day is furled, Shines in the sky a light afar, Mayhap a home-filled world.

Sometimes upon the inner sky We catch a doubtful shine: A mote or star? A flash in the eye Or jewel of G.o.d's mine?

A star to us, all glimmer and glance, May teem with seraphim: A fancy to our ignorance May be a truth to Him.

IV.

The night is damp and warm and still, And soft with summer dreams; The buds are bursting at their will, And shy the half moon gleams.

My soul is cool, as bathed within By dews that silent weep-- Like child that has confessed his sin, And now will go to sleep.

My body ages, form and hue; But when the spring winds blow, My spirit stirs and buds anew, Younger than long ago.

Lord, make me more a child, and more, Till Time his own end bring, And out of every winter sore I pa.s.s into thy spring.

A BOOK OF DREAMS.

PART I.

I.

I lay and dreamed. The Master came, In seamless garment drest; I stood in bonds 'twixt love and shame, Not ready to be blest.

He stretched his arms, and gently sought To clasp me to his heart; I shrank, for I, unthinking, thought He knew me but in part.

I did not love him as I would!

Embraces were not meet!

I dared not ev'n stand where he stood-- I fell and kissed his feet.

Years, years have pa.s.sed away since then; Oft hast thou come to me; The question scarce will rise again Whether I care for thee.

In thee lies hid my unknown heart, In thee my perfect mind; In all my joys, my Lord, thou art The deeper joy behind.

But when fresh light and visions bold My heart and hope expand, Up comes the vanity of old That now I understand:

Away, away from thee I drift, Forgetting, not forgot; Till sudden yawns a downward rift-- I start--and see thee not.

Ah, then come sad, unhopeful hours!

All in the dark I stray, Until my spirit fainting cowers On the threshold of the day.

Hence not even yet I child-like dare Nestle unto thy breast, Though well I know that only there Lies hid the secret rest.

But now I shrink not from thy will, Nor, guilty, judge my guilt; Thy good shall meet and slay my ill-- Do with me as thou wilt.

If I should dream that dream once more, Me in my dreaming meet; Embrace me, Master, I implore, And let me kiss thy feet.

II.

I stood before my childhood's home, Outside its belt of trees; All round my glances flit and roam O'er well-known hills and leas;

When sudden rushed across the plain A host of hurrying waves, Loosed by some witchery of the brain From far, dream-hidden caves.

And up the hill they clomb and came, A wild, fast-flowing sea: Careless I looked as on a game; No terror woke in me.

For, just the belting trees within, I saw my father wait; And should the waves the summit win, There was the open gate!

With him beside, all doubt was dumb; There let the waters foam!

No mightiest flood would dare to come And drown his holy home!

Two days pa.s.sed by. With restless toss, The red flood brake its doors; Prostrate I lay, and looked across To the eternal sh.o.r.es.

The world was fair, and hope was high; My friends had all been true; Life burned in me, and Death and I Would have a hard ado.

Sudden came back the dream so good, My trouble to abate: At his own door my Father stood-- I just without the gate!