Tag: George MacDonald

Joy the Last

From a letter to his father, on June 3, 1855: How does dear mother bear it? It must be a dreadful trial to her. Life grows so sad sometimes — “but there is the one who makes the joy the last in every song” and no trial is too sad which makes us look more…

Read more Joy the Last

Come to the Father

When I wake up in the morning, I have my routines and all the little things I feel I have to do. Wash my face, brush my teeth. Make some coffee, and while the machine is working I put away dry dishes, and tidy the living room. Take time to pray, and commune with my…

Read more Come to the Father

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!— ‘Tis—TO LOVE, AND LOVE…

Read more One Wine Left

The Sun is Gone Down

The sun is gone down And the moon’s in the sky But the sun will come up And the moon be laid by. The flower is asleep. But it is not dead, When the morning shines It will lift its head. When winter comes It will die! No, no, It will only hide From the…

Read more The Sun is Gone Down

A Winter Prayer

“O That Thou Wouldst Rend the Heavens and Come Down!” Come through the gloom of clouded skies, The slow dim rain and fog athwart, Through East winds keen and wrong and lies, Come and make strong my hopeless heart. Come through the sickness and the pain, The sore unrest that tosses still, The aching dark…

Read more A Winter Prayer