The Diary of an Old soul by George MacDonald
page 67 of 126 (53%)
page 67 of 126 (53%)
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The sole way to put flight into the wing,
To preen its feathers, and to make them grow, Is to heed humbly every smallest thing With which the Christ in us has aught to do. So will the Christ from child to manhood go, Obedient to the father Christ, and so Sweet holy change will turn all our old things to new. 10. Creation thou dost work by faint degrees, By shade and shadow from unseen beginning; Far, far apart, in unthought mysteries Of thy own dark, unfathomable seas, Thou will'st thy will; and thence, upon the earth-- Slow travelling, his way through centuries winning-- A child at length arrives at never ending birth. 11. Well mayst thou then work on indocile hearts By small successes, disappointments small; By nature, weather, failure, or sore fall; By shame, anxiety, bitterness, and smarts; By loneliness, by weary loss of zest:-- The rags, the husks, the swine, the hunger-quest, Drive home the wanderer to the father's breast. 12. |
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