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!

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

The Diary Of An Old Soul. - May.

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

Translations. - Milton's Italian Poems. Iii. Canzone.

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

Were I A Skilful Painter.

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

A Thanksgiving For F. D. Maurice

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.

He Heeded Not

    Of whispering trees the tongues to hear,
    And sermons of the silent stone;
    To read in brooks the print so clear
    Of motion, shadowy light, and tone--
    That man hath neither eye nor ear
    Who careth not for human moan.

    Yea, he who draws, in shrinking haste,
    From sin that passeth helpless by;
    The weak antennae of whose taste
    From touch of alien grossness fly--
    Shall, banished to the outer waste,
    Never in Nature's bosom lie.

    But he whose heart is full of grace
    To his own kindred all about,
    Shall find in lowest human face,
    Blasted with wrong and dull with doubt,
    More than in Nature's holiest place
    Where mountains dwell and streams run out.

    Coarse cries of strife assa...

George MacDonald

Little Boy Blue.

Little Boy Blue lost his way in a wood--
    Sing apples and cherries, roses and honey:
He said, "I would not go back if I could,
    It's all so jolly and funny!"

He sang, "This wood is all my own--
    Apples and cherries, roses and honey!
Here I will sit, a king on my throne,
    All so jolly and funny!"

A little snake crept out of a tree--
    Apples and cherries, roses and honey:
"Lie down at my feet, little snake," said he--
    All so jolly and funny!

A little bird sang in the tree overhead--
    "Apples and cherries, roses and honey:"
"Come and sing your song on my finger," he said,
    All so jolly and funny.

Up coiled the snake; the bird came down,
And sang him the s...

George MacDonald

The Old Castle

    The brother knew well the castle old,
        Every closet, each outlook fair,
    Every turret and bartizan bold,
        Every chamber, garnished or bare.
        The brother was out in the heavenly air;
    Little ones lost the starry way,
        Wandered down the dungeon stair.
    The brother missed them, and on the clay
        Of the dungeon-floor he found them all.
        Up they jumped when they heard him call!
    He led the little ones into the day--
    Out and up to the sunshine gay,
        Up to the father's own door-sill--
        In at the father's own room door,
    There to be merry and work and play,
        There to come and go at their will,
        Good boys and girls to be lost no more!

George MacDonald

Willie's Question

        Willie speaks.

Is it wrong, the wish to be great,
    For I do wish it so?
I have asked already my sister Kate;
    She says she does not know.

Yestereve at the gate I stood
    Watching the sun in the west;
When I saw him look so grand and good
    It swelled up in my breast.

Next from the rising moon
    It stole like a silver dart;
In the night when the wind began his tune
    It woke with a sudden start.

This morning a trumpet blast
    Made all the cottage quake;
It came so sudden and shook so fast
    It blew me wide awake.

It told me I must make haste,
    And some great glory win,
For every day was running to waste,
    And at once I must begin.

I want to be great and strong,

George MacDonald

After Thomas Kempis

    I.

    Who follows Jesus shall not walk
    In darksome road with danger rife;
    But in his heart the Truth will talk,
    And on his way will shine the Life.

    So, on the story we must pore
    Of him who lives for us, and died,
    That we may see him walk before,
    And know the Father in the guide.


    II.

    In words of truth Christ all excels,
    Leaves all his holy ones behind;
    And he in whom his spirit dwells
    Their hidden manna sure shall find.

    Gather wouldst thou the perfect grains,
    And Jesus fully understand?
    Thou must obey him with huge pains,
    And to God's will be as Christ's hand.


    III.

    What profits it to reason high
    And in hard q...

George MacDonald

Translations. - The Diver (From Schiller.)

"Which of you, knight or squire, will dare
Plunge into yonder gulf?
A golden beaker I fling in it--there!
The black mouth swallows it like a wolf!
Who brings me the cup again, whoever,
It is his own--he may keep it for ever!"

Tis the king who speaks; and he flings from the brow
Of the cliff, that, rugged and steep,
Hangs out o'er the endless sea below,
The cup in the whirlpool's howling heap:--
"Again I ask, what hero will follow?
What brave heart plunge into yon dark hollow?"

The knights and the squires, the king about,
Hear him, and dumbly stare
Into the wild sea's tumbling rout;
But to win the beaker, they hardly care!
The king, for the third time, round him glaring--
"Not a soul of you has the daring?"

Speechless all, as before,...

George MacDonald