Prayer

    We doubt the word that tells us: Ask,
        And ye shall have your prayer;
    We turn our thoughts as to a task,
        With will constrained and rare.

    And yet we have; these scanty prayers
        Yield gold without alloy:
    O God, but he that trusts and dares
        Must have a boundless joy!

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

To ----

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

By The Cradle.

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

Hope And Patience

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

Songs Of The Spring Days

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.

A Prayer

    Thou who mad'st the mighty clock
    Of the great world go;
    Mad'st its pendulum swing and rock,
    Ceaseless to and fro;
    Thou whose will doth push and draw
    Every orb in heaven,
    Help me move by higher law
    In my spirit graven.

    Like a planet let me swing--
    With intention strong;
    In my orbit rushing sing
    Jubilant along;
    Help me answer in my course
    To my seasons due;
    Lord of every stayless force,
    Make my Willing true.

George MacDonald

A Song Prayer

    Lord Jesus,
    Oh, ease us
    Of Self that oppresses,
    Annoys and distresses
    Body and brain
    With dull pain!
    Thou never,
    Since ever,
    Save one moment only,
    Wast left, or wast lonely:
    We are alone,
    And make moan.

    Far parted,
    Dull-hearted,
    We wander, sleep-walking,
    Mere shadows, dim-stalking:
    Orphans we roam,
    Far from home.

    Oh new man,
    Sole human,
    God's son, and our brother,
    Give each to the other--
    No one left out
    In cold doubt!

    High Father,
    Oh gather
    Thy sons and thy daughters,
    Through fires and through waters,
    Home to the nest
    Of thy breast!

    There under<...

George MacDonald

The Temple Of God

    In the desert by the bush,
    Moses to his heart said Hush.

    David on his bed did pray;
    God all night went not away.

    From his heap of ashes foul
    Job to God did lift his soul,

    God came down to see him there,
    And to answer all his prayer.

    On a dark hill, in the wind,
    Jesus did his father find,

    But while he on earth did fare,
    Every spot was place of prayer;

    And where man is any day,
    God can not be far away.

    But the place he loveth best,
    Place where he himself can rest,

    Where alone he prayer doth seek,
    Is the spirit of the meek.

    To the humble God doth come;
    In his heart he makes his home.

George MacDonald

A Prayer

    When I look back upon my life nigh spent,
        Nigh spent, although the stream as yet flows on,
    I more of follies than of sins repent,
        Less for offence than Love's shortcomings moan.
        With self, O Father, leave me not alone--
    Leave not with the beguiler the beguiled;
        Besmirched and ragged, Lord, take back thine own:
    A fool I bring thee to be made a child.

George MacDonald

Translations. - The Lord's Prayer, Briefly And Plainly Set Forth, And Turned Into Metre. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Our Father in the heaven who art,
Who tellest all of us, in heart
Brothers to be, and on thee call,
And wilt have prayer from us all--
Grant, not from mouth alone it flow;
From deepest heart oh let it go!

Hallowed be thy name, O Lord;
Amongst us oh keep pure thy word,
That we too may live holily,
And in thy true name worthily!
Defend us, Lord, from lying lore;
Thy poor misguided folk restore.

Thy kingdom come now here below!
And after there on ever go!
The Holy Ghost his temple hold
In us with graces manifold!
The devil's wrath and greatness strong
Crush, that he do thy church no wrong.

Thy will be done the same, Lord God,
On earth as in thy high abode!
In pain give patience for relief,
Obedience in love and grief;

George MacDonald

God; Not Gift

    Gray clouds my heaven have covered o'er;
        My sea ebbs fast, no more to flow;
    Ghastly and dry, my desert shore
        Parched, bare, unsightly things doth show.

    'Tis thou, Lord, cloudest up my sky;
        Stillest the heart-throb of my sea;
    Tellest the sad wind not to sigh,
        Yea, life itself to wait for thee!

    Lord, here I am, empty enough!
        My music but a soundless moan!
    Blind hope, of all my household stuff,
        Leaves me, blind hope, not quite alone!

    Shall hope too go, that I may trust
        Purely in thee, and spite of all?
    Then turn my very heart to dust--
        On thee, on thee, I yet will call.

    List! list! his wind among the pines
        Hark! hark! that rushi...

George MacDonald