“O That Thou Wouldst Rend the Heavens and Come Down!”
Come through the gloom of clouded skies,
The slow dim rain and fog athwart,
Through East winds keen and wrong and lies,
Come and make strong my hopeless heart.
Come through the sickness and the pain,
The sore unrest that tosses still,
The aching dark that hides the gain –
Come and arouse my fainting will.
Come through the prate of foolish words,
The Science with no Lord behind,
Through all the pangs of untuned chords
Speak wisdom to my shaken mind.
Through all the fears –that spirits bow-
Of what hath been or may befall,
Come down and talk with me, for thou
Canst tell me about them all.
Come, Lord of Life -here is thy seat,
Heart of all joy below, above –
One minute let me kiss thy feet
And name the names of those I love.
For, when thou comest, well I know
Thou wast not all the time away;
And strong I rise, when thou dost go,
To meet the dark another day.
~George MacDonald, from The Poetical Works of George MacDonald