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 Chrysalis
2. Russell Gurney
3. General Gordon
4. To One Threatened with Blindness
5. To A. J. Scott

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1868

Последние стихотворения

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