One Wine Left

“O light of dead and of dying days!

O Love! in thy glory go,

In a rosy mist and a moony maze,

O’er the pathless peaks of snow.

But what is left for the cold gray soul,

That moans like a wounded dove?

One wine is left in the broken bowl!—


Better to sit at the waters’ birth,

Than a sea of waves to win;

To live in the love that floweth forth,

Than the love that cometh in.

Be thy heart a well of love, my child,

Flowing, and free, and sure;

For a cistern of love, though undefiled,

Keeps not the spirit pure.”

Excerpt From

Phantastes, a Faerie Romance for Men and Women

George MacDonald



Discovering Love Discovering Reality Journey Learning and Growth The Path to Love True Love

Watergirl View All →

Just a little flower, turning her face to find the sun. I don’t always feel his rays on me, but when I do, the warmth and the feeling is simply wonderful, and I never want to be in the shadows again. Isn’t he lovely?

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