The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes - Volume 2 - George MacDonald (list of e readers TXT) 📗
- Author: George MacDonald
Book online «The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes - Volume 2 - George MacDonald (list of e readers TXT) 📗». Author George MacDonald
Only be sure I can .
I want to know-I am willing,
Let me at least have a chance! Shall I give the monkey-boy my shilling?-
I want to serve at once.
The Father answers.
Give all your shillings you might
And hurt your brothers the more; He only can serve his fellows aright
Who goes in at the little door.
We must do the thing we must
Before the thing we may; We are unfit for any trust
Till we can and do obey.
Willie speaks.
I will try more and more;
I have nothing now to ask;
Obedience I know is the little door:
Now set me some hard task.
The Father answers.
No, Willie; the father of all,
Teacher and master high, Has set your task beyond recall,
Nothing can set it by.
Willie speaks.
What is it, father dear,
That he would have me do? I'd ask himself, but he's not near,
And so I must ask you!
The Father answers.
Me 'tis no use to ask,
I too am one of his boys! But he tells each boy his own plain task;
Listen, and hear his voice.
Willie speaks.
Father, I'm listening so
To hear him if I may! His voice must either be very low,
Or very far away!
The Father answers.
It is neither hard to hear,
Nor hard to understand; It is very low, but very near,
A still, small, strong command.
Willie answers.
I do not hear it at all;
I am only hearing you!
The Father speaks.
Think: is there nothing, great or small,
You ought to go and do?
Willie answers.
Let me think:-I ought to feed
My rabbits. I went away In such a hurry this morning! Indeed
They've not had enough to-day!
The Father speaks.
That is his whisper low!
That is his very word! You had only to stop and listen, and so
Very plainly you heard!
That duty's the little door:
You must open it and go in; There is nothing else to do before,
There is nowhere else to begin.
Willie speaks.
But that's so easily done!
It's such a trifling affair! So nearly over as soon as begun.
For that he can hardly care!
The Father answers.
You are turning from his call
If you let that duty wait; You would not think any duty small
If you yourself were great.
The nearest is at life's core;
With the first, you all begin: What matter how little the little door
If it only let you in?
V.
Willie speaks.
Papa, I am come again:
It is now three months and more That I've tried to do the thing that was plain,
And I feel as small as before.
The Father answers.
Your honour comes too slow?
How much then have you done? One foot on a mole-heap, would you crow
As if you had reached the sun?
Willie speaks.
But I cannot help a doubt
Whether this way be the true: The more I do to work it out
The more there comes to do;
And yet, were all done and past,
I should feel just as small, For when I had tried to the very last-
'Twas my duty, after all!
It is only much the same
As not being liar or thief!
The Father answers.
One who tried it found even, with shame,
That of sinners he was the chief!
My boy, I am glad indeed
You have been finding the truth!
Willie speaks.
But where's the good? I shall never speed-
Be one whit greater, in sooth!
If duty itself must fail,
And that be the only plan, How shall my scarce begun duty prevail
To make me a mighty man?
The Father answers.
Ah, Willie! what if it were
Quite another way to fall? What if the greatness itself lie there-
In knowing that you are small?
In seeing the good so good
That you feel poor, weak, and low; And hungrily long for it as for food,
With an endless need to grow?
The man who was lord of fate,
Born in an ox's stall, Was great because he was much too great
To care about greatness at all.
Ever and only he sought
The will of his Father good; Never of what was high he thought,
But of what his Father would.
You long to be great; you try;
You feel yourself smaller still: In the name of God let ambition die;
Let him make you what he will.
Who does the truth, is one
With the living Truth above: Be God's obedient little son,
Let ambition die in love.
KING COLE .
King Cole he reigned in Aureoland, But the sceptre was seldom in his hand
Far oftener was there his golden cup- He ate too much, but he drank all up!
To be called a king and to be a king, That is one thing and another thing!
So his majesty's head began to shake, And his hands and his feet to swell and ache,
The doctors were called, but they dared not say Your majesty drinks too much Tokay;
So out of the king's heart died all mirth, And he thought there was nothing good on earth.
Then up rose the fool, whose every word Was three parts wise and one part absurd.
Nuncle, he said, never mind the gout; I will make you laugh till you laugh it out.
King Cole pushed away his full gold plate: The jester he opened the palace gate,
Brought in a cold man, with hunger grim, And on the dais-edge seated him;
Then caught up the king's own golden plate, And set it beside him: oh, how he ate!
And the king took note, with a pleased surprise, That he ate with his mouth and his cheeks and his eyes,
With his arms and his legs and his body whole, And laughed aloud from his heart and soul.
Then from his lordly chair got up, And carried the man his own gold cup;
The goblet was deep and wide and full, The poor man drank like a cow at a pool.
Said the king to the jester-I call it well done To drink with two mouths instead of one!
Said the king to himself, as he took his seat, It is quite as good to feed as to eat!
It is better, I do begin to think, To give to the thirsty than to drink!
And now I have thought of it, said the king, There might be more of this kind of thing!
The fool heard. The king had not long to wait: The fool cried aloud at the palace-gate;
The ragged and wretched, the hungry and thin, Loose in their clothes and tight in their skin,
Gathered in shoals till they filled the hall, And the king and the fool they fed them all;
And as with good things their plates they piled The king grew merry as a little child.
On the morrow, early, he went abroad And sought poor folk in their own abode-
Sought them till evening foggy and dim, Did not wait till they came to him;
And every day after did what he could, Gave them work and gave them food.
Thus he made war on the wintry weather, And his health and the spring came back together.
But, lo, a change had passed on the king, Like the change of the world in that same spring!
His face had grown noble and good to see, And the crown sat well on his majesty.
Now he ate enough, and ate no more, He drank about half what he drank before,
He reigned a real king in Aureoland, Reigned with his head and his heart and his hand.
All this through the fool did come to pass. And every Christmas-eve that was,
The palace-gates stood open wide And the poor came in from every side,
And the king rose up and served them duly, And his people loved him very truly.
SAID AND DID .
Said the boy as he read, "I too will be bold,
I will fight for the truth and its glory!" He went to the playground, and soon had told
A very cowardly story!
Said the girl as she read, "That was grand, I declare!
What a true, what a lovely, sweet soul!" In half-an-hour she went up the stair,
Looking as black as a coal!
"The mean little wretch, I wish I could fling
This book at his head!" said another; Then he went and did the same ugly thing
To his own little trusting brother!
Alas for him who sees a thing grand
And does not fit himself to it! But the meanest act, on sea or on land,
Is to find a fault, and then do it!
DR. DODDRIDGE'S DOG .
"What! you Dr. Doddridge's dog, and not know who made you?"
My little dog, who blessed you
With such white toothy-pegs? And who was it that dressed you
In such a lot of legs?
Perhaps he never told you!
Perhaps you know quite well, And beg me not to scold you
For you can't speak to tell!
I'll tell you, little brother,
In case you do not know:- One only, not another,
Could make us two just so.
You love me?-Quiet!-I'm proving!-
It must be God above That filled those eyes with loving:
He was the first to love!
One day he'll stop all sadness-
Hark to the nightingale! Oh blessed God of gladness!-
Come, doggie, wag your tail!
That's-Thank you, God!-He gave you
Of life this little taste; And with more life he'll save you,
Not let you go to waste!
He says now, Live together,
And share your bite and sup; And then
I want to know-I am willing,
Let me at least have a chance! Shall I give the monkey-boy my shilling?-
I want to serve at once.
The Father answers.
Give all your shillings you might
And hurt your brothers the more; He only can serve his fellows aright
Who goes in at the little door.
We must do the thing we must
Before the thing we may; We are unfit for any trust
Till we can and do obey.
Willie speaks.
I will try more and more;
I have nothing now to ask;
Obedience I know is the little door:
Now set me some hard task.
The Father answers.
No, Willie; the father of all,
Teacher and master high, Has set your task beyond recall,
Nothing can set it by.
Willie speaks.
What is it, father dear,
That he would have me do? I'd ask himself, but he's not near,
And so I must ask you!
The Father answers.
Me 'tis no use to ask,
I too am one of his boys! But he tells each boy his own plain task;
Listen, and hear his voice.
Willie speaks.
Father, I'm listening so
To hear him if I may! His voice must either be very low,
Or very far away!
The Father answers.
It is neither hard to hear,
Nor hard to understand; It is very low, but very near,
A still, small, strong command.
Willie answers.
I do not hear it at all;
I am only hearing you!
The Father speaks.
Think: is there nothing, great or small,
You ought to go and do?
Willie answers.
Let me think:-I ought to feed
My rabbits. I went away In such a hurry this morning! Indeed
They've not had enough to-day!
The Father speaks.
That is his whisper low!
That is his very word! You had only to stop and listen, and so
Very plainly you heard!
That duty's the little door:
You must open it and go in; There is nothing else to do before,
There is nowhere else to begin.
Willie speaks.
But that's so easily done!
It's such a trifling affair! So nearly over as soon as begun.
For that he can hardly care!
The Father answers.
You are turning from his call
If you let that duty wait; You would not think any duty small
If you yourself were great.
The nearest is at life's core;
With the first, you all begin: What matter how little the little door
If it only let you in?
V.
Willie speaks.
Papa, I am come again:
It is now three months and more That I've tried to do the thing that was plain,
And I feel as small as before.
The Father answers.
Your honour comes too slow?
How much then have you done? One foot on a mole-heap, would you crow
As if you had reached the sun?
Willie speaks.
But I cannot help a doubt
Whether this way be the true: The more I do to work it out
The more there comes to do;
And yet, were all done and past,
I should feel just as small, For when I had tried to the very last-
'Twas my duty, after all!
It is only much the same
As not being liar or thief!
The Father answers.
One who tried it found even, with shame,
That of sinners he was the chief!
My boy, I am glad indeed
You have been finding the truth!
Willie speaks.
But where's the good? I shall never speed-
Be one whit greater, in sooth!
If duty itself must fail,
And that be the only plan, How shall my scarce begun duty prevail
To make me a mighty man?
The Father answers.
Ah, Willie! what if it were
Quite another way to fall? What if the greatness itself lie there-
In knowing that you are small?
In seeing the good so good
That you feel poor, weak, and low; And hungrily long for it as for food,
With an endless need to grow?
The man who was lord of fate,
Born in an ox's stall, Was great because he was much too great
To care about greatness at all.
Ever and only he sought
The will of his Father good; Never of what was high he thought,
But of what his Father would.
You long to be great; you try;
You feel yourself smaller still: In the name of God let ambition die;
Let him make you what he will.
Who does the truth, is one
With the living Truth above: Be God's obedient little son,
Let ambition die in love.
KING COLE .
King Cole he reigned in Aureoland, But the sceptre was seldom in his hand
Far oftener was there his golden cup- He ate too much, but he drank all up!
To be called a king and to be a king, That is one thing and another thing!
So his majesty's head began to shake, And his hands and his feet to swell and ache,
The doctors were called, but they dared not say Your majesty drinks too much Tokay;
So out of the king's heart died all mirth, And he thought there was nothing good on earth.
Then up rose the fool, whose every word Was three parts wise and one part absurd.
Nuncle, he said, never mind the gout; I will make you laugh till you laugh it out.
King Cole pushed away his full gold plate: The jester he opened the palace gate,
Brought in a cold man, with hunger grim, And on the dais-edge seated him;
Then caught up the king's own golden plate, And set it beside him: oh, how he ate!
And the king took note, with a pleased surprise, That he ate with his mouth and his cheeks and his eyes,
With his arms and his legs and his body whole, And laughed aloud from his heart and soul.
Then from his lordly chair got up, And carried the man his own gold cup;
The goblet was deep and wide and full, The poor man drank like a cow at a pool.
Said the king to the jester-I call it well done To drink with two mouths instead of one!
Said the king to himself, as he took his seat, It is quite as good to feed as to eat!
It is better, I do begin to think, To give to the thirsty than to drink!
And now I have thought of it, said the king, There might be more of this kind of thing!
The fool heard. The king had not long to wait: The fool cried aloud at the palace-gate;
The ragged and wretched, the hungry and thin, Loose in their clothes and tight in their skin,
Gathered in shoals till they filled the hall, And the king and the fool they fed them all;
And as with good things their plates they piled The king grew merry as a little child.
On the morrow, early, he went abroad And sought poor folk in their own abode-
Sought them till evening foggy and dim, Did not wait till they came to him;
And every day after did what he could, Gave them work and gave them food.
Thus he made war on the wintry weather, And his health and the spring came back together.
But, lo, a change had passed on the king, Like the change of the world in that same spring!
His face had grown noble and good to see, And the crown sat well on his majesty.
Now he ate enough, and ate no more, He drank about half what he drank before,
He reigned a real king in Aureoland, Reigned with his head and his heart and his hand.
All this through the fool did come to pass. And every Christmas-eve that was,
The palace-gates stood open wide And the poor came in from every side,
And the king rose up and served them duly, And his people loved him very truly.
SAID AND DID .
Said the boy as he read, "I too will be bold,
I will fight for the truth and its glory!" He went to the playground, and soon had told
A very cowardly story!
Said the girl as she read, "That was grand, I declare!
What a true, what a lovely, sweet soul!" In half-an-hour she went up the stair,
Looking as black as a coal!
"The mean little wretch, I wish I could fling
This book at his head!" said another; Then he went and did the same ugly thing
To his own little trusting brother!
Alas for him who sees a thing grand
And does not fit himself to it! But the meanest act, on sea or on land,
Is to find a fault, and then do it!
DR. DODDRIDGE'S DOG .
"What! you Dr. Doddridge's dog, and not know who made you?"
My little dog, who blessed you
With such white toothy-pegs? And who was it that dressed you
In such a lot of legs?
Perhaps he never told you!
Perhaps you know quite well, And beg me not to scold you
For you can't speak to tell!
I'll tell you, little brother,
In case you do not know:- One only, not another,
Could make us two just so.
You love me?-Quiet!-I'm proving!-
It must be God above That filled those eyes with loving:
He was the first to love!
One day he'll stop all sadness-
Hark to the nightingale! Oh blessed God of gladness!-
Come, doggie, wag your tail!
That's-Thank you, God!-He gave you
Of life this little taste; And with more life he'll save you,
Not let you go to waste!
He says now, Live together,
And share your bite and sup; And then
Free e-book «The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes - Volume 2 - George MacDonald (list of e readers TXT) 📗» - read online now
Similar e-books:
Comments (0)