A DREAM SONG
I dreamed of a song –I heard it sung;
In the ear of my soul its strange notes rung.
What were its words I could not tell,
Only the voice I heard right well,
For its tones unearthly my spirit bound
In a calm delirium of mystic sound-
Held me floating, alone and high,
Placeless and silent, drinking my fill
Of dews that from cloudless skies distil
On desert places that thirst and sigh.
‘Twas a woman’s voice, deep calling to deep,
Rousing old echoes that all day sleep
In cavern and solitude, each apart,
Here and there in the waiting heart;-
A voice with a wild melodious cry
Reaching and longing afar and high.
Sorrowful triumph, and hopeful strife,
Gainful death, and new-born life,
Thrilled in each note of the prophet-song.
In my heart it said: O Lord, how long
Shall we groan and travail and faint and pray,
Ere thy lovely kingdom bring the day!
-George MacDonald (1824–1905)
I know, right?
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤️🙏🏼❤️
LikeLike
What a beautiful poem from Georage MacDonald, especially the last few lines: “O Lord, how longShall we groan and travail and faint and pray,Ere thy lovely kingdom bring the day!”
And I read it yesterday morning just an hour before learning of the death of a colleague and mentor of many years, and dear friend who was an Episcopal Priest. He had been in ill health for many years, and the last 18 months or so was in and out of hospice care. I am so grateful to our Lord for bringing the lovely kingdom to him at last. Rest in peace, thou faithfuly servant, and rise in glory. AMEN.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Amen! Memory eternal ✝️
LikeLike