The Shortest and Sweetest of Songs

Come

Home.

 

~George MacDonald



From an Old Soul

I see a child before an empty house,
Knocking and knocking at the closed door;
He wakes dull echoes - but nor man nor mouse,
If he stood knocking there forevermore.
A mother angel, see! folding each wing,
Soft-walking, crosses straight the empty floor,
And opens to the obstinate praying thing.

~George MacDonald