George MacDonald (Джордж Макдональд)

A Father to a Mother

When God's own child came down to earth,
High heaven was very glad;
The angels sang for holy mirth;
Not God himself was sad!

Shall we, when ours goes homeward, fret?
Come, Hope, and wait on Sorrow!
The little one will not forget;
It's only till to-morrow!

1. The Gospel Women. 8. The Widow with the Two Mites
2. A. M. D
3. To Garibaldi, with a Book
4. To S. F. S.
5. The Gospel Women. 6. The Woman whom Satan had bound

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1493

Последние стихотворения

To English version