Share:
  Guess poet | Poets | Poets timeline | Isles | Contacts

George MacDonald - Two RondelsGeorge MacDonald - Two Rondels
Work rating: Low


I. When, in the mid-sea of the night, I waken at thy call, O Lord, The first that troop my bark aboard Are darksome imps that hate the light, Whose tongues are arrows, eyes a blight— Of wraths and cares a pirate horde— Though on the mid-sea of the night It was thy call that waked me, Lord. Then I must to my arms and fight— Catch up my shield and two-edged sword, The words of him who is thy word— Nor cease till they are put to flight; Then in the mid-sea of the night I turn and listen for thee, Lord. II. There comes no voice from thee, O Lord, Across the mid-sea of the night! I lift my voice and cry with might: If thou keep silent, soon a horde Of imps again will swarm aboard, And I shall be in sorry plight If no voice come from thee, my Lord, Across the mid-sea of the night. There comes no voice; I hear no word! But in my soul dawns something bright:— There is no sea, no foe to fight! Thy heart and mine beat one accord: I need no voice from thee, O Lord, Across the mid-sea of the night.
Source

The script ran 0.001 seconds.