George MacDonald Poems

The mountain-stream may humbly boast
For her the loud waves call;
The hamlet feeds the nation's host,
The home-farm feeds the hall;
...

In the winter, flowers are springing;
In the winter, woods are green,
Where our banished birds are singing,
Where our summer sun is seen!
...

Prince Breacan of Denmark was lord of the strand
And lord of the billowy sea;
Lord of the sea and lord of the land,
He might have let maidens be!
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O lassie ayont the hill,
Come ower the tap o' the hill,
Come ower the tap wi' the breeze o' the hill,
Bidena ayont the hill!
...

To G.E.M.

'Tis a little room, my friend-
Baby walks from end to end;
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I. I honour Nature, holding it unjust
To look with jealousy on her designs;
With every passing year more fast she twines
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O wind of God, that blowest in the mind,
Blow, blow and wake the gentle spring in me;
Blow, swifter blow, a strong warm summer wind,
...

I.

'Bonny lassie, rosy lassie,
Ken ye what is care?
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Nobody knows the world but me.
The rest go to bed; I sit up and see.
I'm a better observer than any of you all,
...

Her mother, Elfie older grown,
One evening, for adieu,
Said, 'You'll not mind being left alone,
For God takes care of you!'
...