I Ken Something.

What gars ye sing sae, birdie,
    As gien ye war lord o' the lift?
On breid ye're an unco sma' lairdie,
    But in hicht ye've a kingly gift!

A' ye hae to coont yersel rich in
    'S a wee mawn o' glory-motes!
The whilk to the throne ye're aye hitchin
    Wi a lang tow o' sapphire notes!

Ay, yer sang's the sang o' an angel
    For a sinfu' thrapple no meet,
Like the pipes til a heavenly braingel
    Whaur they dance their herts intil their feet!

But though ye canna behaud, birdie,
    Ye needna gar a'thing wheesht!
I'm noucht but a hirplin herdie,
    But I hae a sang i' my breist!

Len' me yer throat to sing throu,
    Len' me yer wings to gang hie,
And I'll sing ye a sang a laverock to cow,
    And for bliss to gar him dee!

George MacDonald

George MacDonald (1824–1905) was a Scottish author, poet, and Christian minister best known for his fairy tales and fantasy novels. He was a pioneer in the fantasy genre, influencing notable writers such as C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. His major works include "Phantastes" and "Lilith," as well as numerous poems and other literary works. MacDonald's writings are characterized by their imaginative qualities and deep spiritual insight.

George MacDonald

Bell Upon Organ.

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

Shall The Dead Praise Thee?

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

In Memorium - Lady Caroline Charteris

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

The Early Bird.

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Laverock

The Man says:

Laverock i' the lift,
Hae ye nae sang-thrift,
'At ye scatter 't sae heigh, and lat it a' drift?
        Wasterfu laverock!

Dinna ye ken
'At ye hing ower men
Wha haena a sang or a penny to spen?
        Hertless laverock!

But up there you,
I' the bow o' the blue,
Haud skirlin on as gien a' war new!
        Toom-heidit laverock!

Haith, ye're ower blythe!
I see a great scythe
Swing whaur yer nestie lies, doon i' the lythe,
        Liltin laverock!

Eh, sic a soun!
Birdie, come doun,
Ye're fey to sing sic a merry tune!
        Gowkit laverock!

Come to yer nest;
Yer wife's sair prest,
She's clean worn oot wi' duin her best!
        Rovin laverock!

Winna ye hau...

George MacDonald

The Herd And The Mavis

"What gars ye sing," said the herd-laddie,
    "What gars ye sing sae lood?"
"To tice them oot o' the yerd, laddie,
    The worms for my daily food."

            An' aye he sang, an' better he sang,
                An' the worms creepit in an' oot;
            An' ane he tuik, an' twa he loot gang,
                An' still he carolled stoot.

"It's no for the worms, sir," said the herd;
    "They comena for your sang!"
"Think ye sae, sir?" answered the bird,
    "Maybe ye're no i' the wrang!"

            But aye &c.

"Sing ye young Sorrow to beguile,
    Or to gie auld Fear the flegs?"
"Na," quo' the mavis, "I sing to wile
    My wee things oot o' her eggs."

            An' aye &c.

"The ...

George MacDonald

A Song Of Hope

I dinna ken what's come ower me!
    There's a how whaur ance was a hert!
I never luik oot afore me,
    An' a cry winna gar me stert;
There's naething nae mair to come ower me,
    Blaw the win' frae ony airt!

For i' yon kirkyard there's a hillock,
    A hert whaur ance was a how;
An' o' joy there's no left a mealock--
    Deid aiss whaur ance was a low!
For i' yon kirkyard, i' the hillock,
    Lies a seed 'at winna grow.

It's my hert 'at hauds up the wee hillie--
    That's hoo there's a how i' my breist;
It's awa doon there wi' my Willie--
    Gaed wi' him whan he was releast;
It's doon i' the green-grown hillie,
    But I s' be efter it neist!

Come awa, nicht an' mornin,
    Come ooks, years, a' Time's clan:
Ye're welc...

George MacDonald

The Deil's Forhooit His Ain

                The Deil's forhooit his ain, his ain!
                    The Deil's forhooit his ain!
                His bairns are greitin in ilka neuk,
                    For the Deil's forhooit his ain.

The Deil he tuik his stick and his hat,
    And his yallow gluves on he drew:
"The coal's sae dear, and the preachin sae flat.
    And I canna be aye wi' you!"

                The Deil's, &c.

"But I'll gie ye my blessin afore I gang,
    Wi' jist ae word o' advice;
And gien onything efter that gaes wrang
    It'll be yer ain wull and ch'ice!

"Noo hark: There's diseases gaein aboot,
    Whiles are, and whiles a' thegither!
Ane's ca'd Repentance--haith, hand it oot!
    It comes wi' a change o' weather.

"...

George MacDonald

Granny Canty.

"What maks ye sae canty, granny dear?
Has some kin' body been for ye to speir?
Ye luik as smilin an' fain an' willin
As gien ye had fun a bonny shillin!"

"Ye think I luik canty, my bonny man,
Sittin watchin the last o' the sun sae gran'?
Weel, an' I'm thinkin ye're no that wrang,
For 'deed i' my hert there's a wordless sang!

"Ken ye the meanin o' canty, my dow?
It's bein i' the humour o' singin, I trow!
An' though nae sang ever crosses my lips
I'm aye like to sing whan anither sun dips.

"For the time, wee laddie, the time grows lang
Sin' I saw the man wha's sicht was my sang--
Yer gran'father, that's--an' the sun's last glim
Says aye to me, 'Lass, ye're a mile nearer him!

"For he's hame afore me, an' lang's the road!
He fain...

George MacDonald

Mirls

The stars are steady abune;
    I' the water they flichter and flee;
But, steady aye, luikin doon
    They ken theirsels i' the sea.

A' licht, and clear, and free,
    God, thou shinest abune;
Yet luik, and see thysel in me,
    Aye on me luikin doon.



Throu the heather an' how gaed the creepin thing,
But abune was the waff o' an angel's wing.



Hither an' thither, here an' awa,
Into the dub ye maunna fa';
Oot o' the dub wad ye come wi' speed,
Ye maun lift yer han's abune yer heid.



Whaur's nor sun nor mune,
Laigh things come abune.



My thouchts are like worms in a starless gloamin
    My hert's like a sponge that's fillit wi' gall;
My soul's like a bodiless ghaist sent a roamin...

George MacDonald