A threefold cord: poems by three friends, ed. by G. MacDonald1883 |
Other editions - View all
A Threefold Cord: Poems by Three Friends (Classic Reprint) George MacDonald No preview available - 2016 |
A Threefold Cord: Poems by Three Friends (Classic Reprint) George MacDonald No preview available - 2017 |
Common terms and phrases
abune aneth Art thou auld beauty blind blow breast breath burnie cloud cold comes cried crystal waters dark dead death Deil's didst doon door dost doth dream earth eternal evermore face Father fear feet flower frae gazing gien glad gloom glory goeth grass grow haena hands harebell hath haud hear heart heaven hert laverock lift light living look Lord mair maun mighty moon mountains nest never night o'er ower prayer puir purple quiet rain rest round sang shadow shadow falls shining sing sits skies sleep song soul sound spirit spring stars stert strange summer sweet thee There's things thou art thou art mindful thou hast thought toss TRIOLET truth voice warl watch waves weary whaur white clover wilt wind wings word
Popular passages
Page 335 - What's that?" the glimmering thread once more! He flew in a rage — he danced and blew ; But in vain Was the pain Of his bursting brain ; For still the broader the Moon-scrap grew, The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew. Slowly she grew — till she filled the night, And shone On her throne In the sky alone, A matchless, wonderful, silvery light, Radiant and lovely, the Queen of the Night. Said the wind — "What a marvel of power am I ! With my breath, Good faith! I blew her to death —...
Page 333 - The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon. So, deep on a heap Of clouds to sleep Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon, Muttering low, " I've done for that Moon." He turned in his bed ; she was there again. On high in the sky, With her one ghost eye, The Moon shone white and alive and plain. Said the Wind,
Page 252 - THEY all were looking for a king To slay their foes and lift them high: Thou cam'st, a little baby thing That made a woman cry. O Son of Man, to right my lot Naught but Thy presence can avail; Yet on the road Thy wheels are not, Nor on the sea Thy sail ! My how or when Thou wilt not heed, But come down Thine own secret stair, That Thou mayst answer all my need — Yea, every bygone prayer.
Page 39 - ... care not for the world ; I go To this dear friend and sure. And when life's fiercest storms are sent Upon life's wildest sea, My little bark is confident, Because it holds by thee. When the law threatens endless death Upon the dreadful hill, Straightway from her consuming breath My soul goeth higher still — Goeth to Jesus, wounded, slain, And maketh him her home, Whence she will not go out again, And where death cannot come.
Page 335 - But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair, For, high In the sky, With her one white eye, Motionless, miles above the air, She had never heard the great Wind blare.
Page 38 - Lord 1 how happy is the time When in thy love I rest, When from my weariness I climb E'en to thy tender breast. The night of sorrow endeth there, Thy rays outshine the sun, And in thy pardon, and thy care, The heaven of heavens is won.
Page 40 - Who art as present in the strife As in the victory. Therefore how happy is the time When in thy love I rest! When from my weariness I climb Even to thy tender breast! The night of sorrow endeth there: Thou are brighter than the sun; And in thy pardon and thy care The heaven of heaven is won.
Page 334 - He blew and he blew, and she thinned to a thread, "One puff More's enough To blow her to snuff! One good puff more where the last was bred, And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go the thread.
Page 174 - And their nests between are better than both. But this is when there blow no storms ; When berries are plenty in winter, and worms • When their feathers are thick, and oil is enough To keep the cold out and the rain off : If there should come a long hard frost, Then it looks as thy birds were lost. But I consider further, and find A hungry bird has a free mind ; He is hungry to-day, not to-morrow ; Steals no comfort, no grief doth borrow ; This moment is his, thy will hath said it, The next is...
Page 315 - In his arms thy silly lamb, Lo, he gathers to his breast! See, thou sadly bleating dam, See him lift thy silly lamb! Hear it cry, "How blest I am! Here is love, and love is rest!