The Poetical Works of George Macdonald: Parables. Ballads. Minor ditties. Motes in the sun. Poems for children. A threefold cord. Scots songs and ballads

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Page 158 - Where did you get those eyes so blue ? Out of the sky as I came through. What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? Some of the starry spikes left in. Where did you get that little tear? I found it waiting when I got here.
Page 158 - Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss? Three angels gave me at once a kiss.
Page 352 - I will blow you out; You stare In the air Like a ghost in a chair, Always looking what I am about — I hate to be watched; I'll blow you out." The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon. So, deep On a heap Of clouds to sleep, Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon, Muttering low, "I've done for that Moon.
Page 354 - What's that?" The glimmering thread once more! He flew in a rage — he danced and blew; But in vain Was the pain Of his bursting brain; For still the broader the Moon-scrap grew, The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew. Slowly she grew — till she filled the night, And shone On her throne In the sky alone, A matchless, wonderful silvery light, Radiant and lovely, the queen of the night. Said the Wind: "What a marvel of power am I!
Page 354 - The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew. Slowly she grew — till she filled the night, And shone On her throne In the sky alone, A matchless, wonderful, silvery light, Radiant and lovely, the Queen of the night. Said the Wind — "What a marvel of power am I? With my breath, Good faith! I blew her to death — First blew her away right out of the sky — Then blew her in; what a strength am I!
Page 81 - I swear, To catch the first shine of your golden hair." "Must I thank you, then," said the king, "Sir Lark, For flying so high and hating the dark? You ask a full cup for half a thirst : Half was love of me, and half love to be first. There's many a bird makes no such haste, But waits till I come: that's as much to my taste.
Page 219 - Who art as present in the strife As in the victory. Therefore how happy is the time When in thy love I rest! When from my weariness I climb Even to thy tender breast! The night of sorrow endeth there: Thou are brighter than the sun; And in thy pardon and thy care The heaven of heaven is won.
Page 353 - He blew and he blew, and she thinned to a thread. "One puff More's enough To blow her to snuff! One good puff more where the last was bred, And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go the thread.
Page 323 - THEY all were looking for a king To slay their foes and lift them high: Thou cam'st, a little baby thing That made a woman cry. O Son of Man, to right my lot Naught but Thy presence can avail; Yet on the road Thy wheels are not, Nor on the sea Thy sail ! My how or when Thou wilt not heed, But come down Thine own secret stair, That Thou mayst answer all my need — Yea, every bygone prayer.
Page 219 - ... care not for the world ; I go To this dear friend and sure. And when life's fiercest storms are sent Upon life's wildest sea, My little bark is confident Because it holds by thee. When the law threatens endless death Upon the dreadful hill, Straightway from her consuming breath My soul goeth higher still — Goeth to Jesus, wounded, slain, And maketh him her home, Whence she will not go out again, And where death cannot come.

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