The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes - Volume 1 by George MacDonald (series like harry potter .txt) 📕

God, let thy mighty heart beat into mine,
And let mine answer as a pulse to thine.
See, I am low; yea, very low; but thou
Art high, and thou canst lift me up to thee.
I am a child, a fool before thee, God;
But thou hast made my weakness as my strength.
I am an emptiness for thee to fill;
My soul, a cavern for thy sea. I lie
Diffused, abandoning myself to thee....
-I will look up, if life should fail in looking.
Ah me! A stream cut from my parent-spring!
Ah me! A life lost from its father-life!


SCENE II.- The refectory. The monks at table. A buzz of conversation . ROBERT enters, wiping his forehead, as if he had just come in .

Stephen
( speaking across the table ).
You see, my friend, it will not stand to logic;
Or, if you like it better, stand to reason;
For in this doctrine is involved a cause
Which for its very being doth depend
Upon its own effect . For, don't you see,
He tells me to have faith and I shall live!
Have faith for what? Why, plainly, that I shall
Be saved from hell by him, and ta'en to heaven;
What is salvation else? If I believe,
Then he will save me! But, so, this his will
Has no existence till that I believe;
And there is nothing for my faith to rest on,
No object for belief. How can I trust
In that which is not? Send the salad, Cosmo.
Besides, 'twould be a plenary indulgence;
To all intents save one, most plenary-
And that the Church's coffer. 'Tis absurd.

Monk .
'Tis most absurd, as you have clearly shown.
And yet I fear some of us have been nibbling
At this same heresy. 'Twere well that one
Should find it poison. I have no pique at him-
But there's that Julian!-

Stephen .
Hush! speak lower, friend.

Two Monks farther down the table-in a low tone .

1st Monk .
Where did you find her?

2nd Monk .
She was taken ill
At the Star-in-the-East. I chanced to pass that way,
And so they called me in. I found her dying.
But ere she would confess and make her peace,
She begged to know if I had ever seen,
About this neighbourhood, a tall dark man,
Moody and silent, with a little stoop
As if his eyes were heavy for his shoulders,
And a strange look of mingled youth and age,-

1st Monk .
Julian, by-

2nd Monk .
'St-no names! I had not seen him.
I saw the death-mist gathering in her eyes,
And urged her to proceed; and she began;
But went not far before delirium came,
With endless repetitions, hurryings forward,
Recoverings like a hound at fault. The past
Was running riot in her conquered brain;
And there, with doors thrown wide, a motley group
Held carnival; went freely out and in,
Meeting and jostling. But withal it seemed
As some confused tragedy went on;
Till suddenly the light sank, and the pageant
Was lost in darkness; the chambers of her brain
Lay desolate and silent. I can gather
So much, and little more:-This Julian
Is one of some distinction; probably rich,
And titled Count. He had a love-affair,
In good-boy, layman fashion, seemingly.-
Give me the woman; love is troublesome!-
She loved him too, but falsehood came between,
And used this woman for her minister;
Who never would have peached, but for a witness
Hidden behind some curtain in her heart-
An unsuspected witness called Sir Conscience,
Who has appeared and blabbed-but must conclude
His story to some double-ghostly father,
For she is ghostly penitent by this.
Our consciences will play us no such tricks;
They are the Church's, not our own. We must
Keep this small matter secret. If it should
Come to his ears, he'll soon bid us good-bye-
A lady's love before ten heavenly crowns!
And so the world will have the benefit
Of the said wealth of his, if such there be.
I have told you, old Godfrey; I tell none else
Until our Abbot comes.

1st Monk .
That is to-morrow.

Another group near the bottom of the table, in which
is ROBERT.

1st Monk .
'Tis very clear there's something wrong with him.
Have you not marked that look, half scorn, half pity,
Which passes like a thought across his face,
When he has listened, seeming scarce to listen,
A while to our discourse?-he never joins.

2nd Monk .
I know quite well. I stood beside him once,
Some of the brethren near; Stephen was talking:
He chanced to say the words, Our Holy Faith .
"Their faith indeed, poor fools!" fell from his lips,
Half-muttered, and half-whispered, as the words
Had wandered forth unbidden. I am sure
He is an atheist at the least.

3rd Monk (pale-faced and large-eyed ).
And I
Fear he is something worse. I had a trance
In which the devil tempted me: the shape
Was Julian's to the very finger-nails.
Non nobis, Domine ! I overcame.
I am sure of one thing-music tortures him:
I saw him once, amid the Gloria Patri ,
When the whole chapel trembled in the sound,
Rise slowly as in ecstasy of pain,
And stretch his arms abroad, and clasp his hands,
Then slowly, faintingly, sink on his knees.

2nd Monk .
He does not know his rubric; stands when others
Are kneeling round him. I have seen him twice
With his missal upside down.

4th Monk (plethoric and husky ).
He blew his nose
Quite loud on last Annunciation-day,
And choked our Lady's name in the Abbot's throat.

Robert .
When he returns, we must complain; and beg
He'll take such measures as the case requires.


SCENE III.- Julian's cell. An open chest. The lantern on a stool, its candle nearly burnt out . JULIAN lying on his bed, looking at the light .


Julian .
And so all growth that is not toward God
Is growing to decay. All increase gained
Is but an ugly, earthy, fungous growth.
'Tis aspiration as that wick aspires,
Towering above the light it overcomes,
But ever sinking with the dying flame.
O let me live , if but a daisy's life!
No toadstool life-in-death, no efflorescence!
Wherefore wilt thou not hear me, Lord of me?
Have I no claim on thee? True, I have none
That springs from me, but much that springs from thee.
Hast thou not made me? Liv'st thou not in me?
I have done naught for thee, am but a want;
But thou who art rich in giving, canst give claims;
And this same need of thee which thou hast given,
Is a strong claim on thee to give thyself,
And makes me bold to rise and come to thee.
Through all my sinning thou hast not recalled
This witness of thy fatherhood, to plead
For thee with me, and for thy child with thee.

Last night, as now, I seemed to speak with him;
Or was it but my heart that spoke for him?
"Thou mak'st me long," I said, "therefore wilt give;
My longing is thy promise, O my God!
If, having sinned, I thus have lost the claim,
Why doth the longing yet remain with me,
And make me bold thus to besiege thy doors?"
Methought I heard for answer: "Question on.
Hold fast thy need; it is the bond that holds
Thy being yet to mine. I give it thee,
A hungering and a fainting and a pain,
Yet a God-blessing. Thou art not quite dead
While this pain lives in thee. I bless thee with it.
Better to live in pain than die that death."

So I will live, and nourish this my pain;
For oft it giveth birth unto a hope
That makes me strong in prayer. He knows it too.
Softly I'll walk the earth; for it is his,
Not mine to revel in. Content I wait.
A still small voice I cannot but believe,
Says on within: God will reveal himself.

I must go from this place. I cannot rest.
It boots not staying. A desire like thirst
Awakes within me, or a new child-heart,
To be abroad on the mysterious earth,
Out with the moon in all the blowing winds.

'Tis strange that dreams of her should come again.
For many months I had not seen her form,
Save phantom-like on dim hills of the past,
Until I laid me down an hour ago;
When twice through the dark chamber