Poem by George MacDonald

What the Lord Saith

Trust my father, saith the eldest-born;
I did trust him ere the earth began;
Not to know him is to be forlorn;
Not to love him is-not to be man.

He that knows him loves him altogether;
With my father I am so content
That through all this dreary human weather
I am working, waiting, confident.

He is with me; I am not alone;
Life is bliss, because I am his child;
Down in Hades will I lay the stone
Whence shall rise to Heaven his city piled.

Hearken, brothers, pray you, to my story!
Hear me, sister; hearken, child, to me:
Our one father is a perfect glory;
He is light, and there is none but he.

Come then with me; I will lead the way;
All of you, sore-hearted, heavy-shod,
Come to father, yours and mine, I pray;
Little ones, I pray you, come to God.

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

Print

1833 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version