George MacDonald

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

My Heart Thy Lark - Poem by George MacDonald

Why dost thou want to sing
When thou hast no song, my heart?
If there be in thee a hidden spring,
Wherefore will no word start?

On its way thou hearest no song,
Yet flutters thy unborn joy!
The years of thy life are growing long-
Art still the heart of a boy?-

Father, I am thy child!
My heart is in thy hand!
Let it hear some echo, with gladness wild,
Of a song in thy high land.

It will answer-but how, my God,
Thou knowest; I cannot say:
It will spring, I know, thy lark, from thy sod-
Thy lark to meet thy day!


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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 9, 2010



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