George MacDonald was a Scottish author, poet, and Christian minister.
Known particularly for his poignant fairy tales and fantasy novels, George MacDonald inspired many authors, such as W.H. Audent, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, E. Nesbit and Madeleine L'Engle. It was C.S. Lewis who wrote that he regarded MacDonald as his "master": "Picking up a copy of Phantastes one day at a train-station bookstall, I began to read. A few hours later," said Lewis, "I knew that I had crossed a great frontier." G.K. Chesterton cited The Princess and the Goblin as a book that had "made a difference to my whole existence."
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George MacDonald Poems
A Memorial of Africa
I. Upon a rock I sat-a mountain-side, Far, far forsaken of the old sea's lip;
Trust him in the common light; Trust him in the awesome night; Trust him when the earth doth quake:
Love Is Strength
Love alone is great in might, Makes the heavy burden light, Smooths rough ways to weary feet, Makes the bitter morsel sweet:
A Broken Prayer
O Lord, my God, how long Shall my poor heart pant for a boundless joy? How long, O mighty Spirit, shall I hear
A Dream Song
I dreamed of a song-I heard it sung; In the ear of my soul its strange notes rung. What were its words I could not tell,
A Birth-Day Wish
Who know thee, love: thy life be such That, ere the year be o'er, Each one who loves thee now so much, Even God, may love thee more!
The lightning and thunder They go and they come: But the stars and the stillness Are always at home.
For Where Your Treasure Is, There Will Y...
The miser lay on his lonely bed; Life's candle was burning dim. His heart in an iron chest was hid Under heaps of gold and an iron lid;
A Better Thing
I took it for a bird of prey that soared High over ocean, battled mount, and plain; 'Twas but a bird-moth, which with limp horns gored
A Christmas Carol
Babe Jesus lay in Mary's lap, The sun shone in his hair; And this was how she saw, mayhap, The crown already there.
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diar...
1. LORD, I do choose the higher than my will. I would be handled by thy nursing arms After thy will, not my infant alarms.
'Earth, if aught should check thy race, Rushing through unfended space, Headlong, stayless, thou wilt fall Into yonder glowing ball!'
Lord, hear my discontent: all blank I stand, A mirror polished by thy hand; Thy sun's beams flash and flame from me-
Where did you come from, baby dear? Out of the everywhere into here.
Comments about George MacDonald
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
A Memorial of Africa
Upon a rock I sat-a mountain-side,
Far, far forsaken of the old sea's lip;
A rock where ancient waters' rise and dip,
Recoil and plunge, eddy, and oscillant tide,
Had worn and worn, while races lived and died,
Involved channels. Where the sea-weed's drip
Followed the ebb, now crumbling lichens sip
Sparse dews of heaven that down with sunset slide.
I sat long-gazing southward. A dry flow
Of withering wind sucked up my drooping strength,
Itself weak from the desert's burning length.
Behind me piled, away and up did go
Great sweeps of savage ...