George MacDonald Poems

An unborn bird lies crumpled and curled,
A-dreaming of the world.

Round it, for castle-wall, a shell
...

When thou turn'st away from ill,
Christ is this side of thy hill.
...

1.
THOU art of this world, Christ. Thou know'st it all;
Thou know'st our evens, our morns, our red and gray;
...

1.
SO shall abundant entrance me be given
Into the truth, my life's inheritance.
Lo! as the sun shoots straight from out his tomb,
...

An angel saw me sitting by a brook,
Pleased with the silence, and the melodies
Of wind and water which did fall and rise:
...

Oft, as I rest in quiet peace, am I
Thrust out at sudden doors, and madly driven
Through desert solitudes, and thunder-riven
...

No bird can sing in tune but that the Lord
Sits throned in equity above the heaven,
And holds the righteous balance always even;
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Here is a temple strangely wrought:
Within it I can see
Two spirits of a diverse thought
Contend for mastery.
...

Waking in the night to pray,
Sleeping when the answer comes,
Foolish are we even at play-
...

'What! you Dr. Doddridge's dog, and not know who made you?'

My little dog, who blessed you
...