Читать книгу Rampolli - George MacDonald - Страница 9

     Dawn, far eastward, on the mountain!

     Gray old times are growing young:

     From the flashing colour-fountain

     I will quaff it deep and long!—

     Granted boon to Longing’s long privation!

     Sweet love in divine transfiguration!

     Comes at last, our old Earth’s native,

     All-Heaven’s one child, simple, kind!

     Blows again, in song creative,

     Round the earth a living wind;

     Blows to clear new flames that rush together

     Sparks extinguished long by earthly weather.

     Everywhere, from graves upspringing,

     Rises new-born life, new blood!

     Endless peace up to us bringing,

     Dives he underneath life’s flood;

     Stands in midst, with full hands, eyes caressing—

     Hardly waits the prayer to grant the blessing.

     Let his mild looks of invading

     Deep into thy spirit go;

     By his blessedness unfading

     Thou thy heart possessed shalt know.

     Hearts of all men, spirits all, and senses

     Mingle, and a new glad dance commences.

     Grasp his hands with boldness yearning;

     Stamp his face thy heart upon;

     Turning toward him, ever turning,

     Thou, the flower, must face thy sun.

     Who to him his heart’s last fold unfoldeth,

     True as wife’s his heart for ever holdeth.

     Ours is now that Godhead’s splendour

     At whose name we used to quake!

     South and north, its breathings tender

     Heavenly germs at once awake!

     Let us then in God’s full garden labour,

     And to every bud and bloom be neighbour!