Somnium Mystici (George MacDonald Poems)
A Microcosm In Terza RimaI.Quiet I lay at last, and knew no moreWhether I breathed or not, so worn I ...
A Microcosm In Terza RimaI.Quiet I lay at last, and knew no moreWhether I breathed or not, so worn I ...
I.The times are changed, and gone the dayWhen the high heavenly land,Though unbeheld, quite near them lay,And men could understand.The ...
Hear'st thou that sound upon the window pane?Said the youth softly, as outstretched he layWhere for an hour outstretched he ...
First-born of the creating Voice!Minister of God's Spirit, who wast sentWaiting upon him first, what time he wentMoving about mid ...
'Tis a poor drizzly morning, dark and sad.The cloud has fallen, and filled with fold on foldThe chimneyed city; and ...
1.I TO myself have neither power nor worth,Patience nor love, nor anything right good;My soul is a poor land, plenteous ...
1.FROM thine, as then, the healing virtue goesInto our hearts—that is the Father's plan.From heart to heart it sinks, it ...
1.ALAS, my tent! see through it a whirlwind sweep!Moaning, poor Fancy's doves are swept away.I sit alone, a sorrow half ...
I.Mary, to thee the heart was givenFor infant hand to hold,And clasp thus, an eternal heaven,The great earth in its ...
O Earth, Earth, Earth,I am dying for love of thee,For thou hast given me birth,And thy hands have tended me.I ...
My wife contrived a fleecy thingHer husband to infold,For 'tis the pride of woman stillTo cover from the cold:My daughter ...
Forth to his study the sculptor goesIn a mood of lofty mirth:"Now shall the tongues of my carping foesConfess what ...
A child was born in sin and shame,Wronged by his very birth,Without a home, without a name,One over in the ...
'Tis time to sleep, my little boy:Why gaze thy bright eyes so?At night our children, for new joyHome to thy ...
Better to smell the violetThan sip the glowing wine;Better to hearken to a brookThan watch a diamond shine.Better to have ...
I.Old fables are not all a lieThat tell of wondrous birth,Of Titan children, father Sky,And mighty mother Earth.Yea, now are ...
I.Hark, in the steeple the dull bell swingingOver the furrows ill ploughed by Death!Hark the bird-babble, the loud lark singing!Hark, ...
Dead art thou? No more dead than was the maidOver whose couch the saving God did stand—"She is not dead ...
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