George MacDonald

(10 December 1824 – 18 September 1905 / Huntly, Aberdeenshire, Scotland)

George MacDonald Poems

41. The Lost Soul 4/9/2010
42. The Man Of Songs 4/9/2010
43. The Mother Mary 4/9/2010
44. The Mother Of Zebedee's Children 4/9/2010
45. The New Year 4/9/2010
46. The Old Castle 4/9/2010
47. The Old Garden 4/9/2010
48. The Pinafore 4/9/2010
49. The Prism 4/9/2010
50. The Prophet 4/9/2010
51. The Sang O' The Auld Fowk 4/9/2010
52. The Sangreal 4/9/2010
53. The Shadows 4/9/2010
54. The Sheep And The Goat 4/9/2010
55. The Sleepless Jesus 4/9/2010
56. The Souls' Rising 4/9/2010
57. The Healer 4/9/2010
58. The Herd And The Mavis 4/9/2010
59. The Syrophenician Woman 4/9/2010
60. The Talk Of The Echoes: A Fragment 4/9/2010
61. The Temple Of God 4/9/2010
62. The Thankless Lady 4/9/2010
63. The Thorn In The Flesh 4/9/2010
64. The Three Horses 4/9/2010
65. The Tree's Prayer 4/9/2010
66. The True 4/9/2010
67. The Twa Gordons 4/9/2010
68. The Unseen Face 4/9/2010
69. The Unseen Model 4/9/2010
70. The Waesome Carl 4/9/2010
71. The Wakeful Sleeper 4/9/2010
72. The Watcher 4/9/2010
73. The Widow Of Nain 4/9/2010
74. The Widow With The Two Mites 4/9/2010
75. The Mistletoe 4/9/2010
76. The Wind Of The World 4/9/2010
77. The Woman In The Temple 4/9/2010
78. The Woman Of Whom Satan Had Bound 4/9/2010
79. The Woman That Lifted Up Her Voice 4/9/2010
80. The Woman That Was A Sinner 4/9/2010
Best Poem of George MacDonald

Little Bo-Peep

Little Bo-Peep, she has lost her sheep,
And will not know where to find them;
They are over the height and out of sight,
Trailing their tails behind them!

Little Bo-Peep woke out of her sleep,
Jump'd up and set out to find them:
'The silly things! they've got no wings,
And they've left their trails behind them!

'They've taken their tails, but they've left their trails,
And so I shall follow and find them!'
For wherever a tail had dragged a trail
The grass lay bent behind them.

She washed in the brook, and caught up her crook.
And after her ...

Read the full of Little Bo-Peep

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!

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