The Diary Of An Old Soul. - February Poem Rhyme Scheme

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George Macdonald

The Diary Of An Old Soul. - February Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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	A
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I TO myself have neither power nor worth	B
Patience nor love nor anything right good	C
My soul is a poor land plenteous in dearth	B
Here blades of grass there a small herb for food	D
A nothing that would be something if it could	C
But if obedience Lord in me do grow	E
I shall one day be better than I know	E
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The worst power of an evil mood is this	F
It makes the bastard self seem in the right	G
Self self the end the goal of human bliss	F
But if the Christ self in us be the might	G
Of saving God why should I spend my force	H
With a dark thing to reason of the light	G
Not push it rough aside and hold obedient course	H
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Back still it comes to this there was a man	I
Who said I am the truth the life the way	J
Shall I pass on or shall I stop and hear	K
Come to the Father but by me none can	I
What then is this am I not also one	L
Of those who live in fatherless dismay	J
I stand I look I listen I draw near	M
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My Lord I find that nothing else will do	N
But follow where thou goest sit at thy feet	O
And where I have thee not still run to meet	O
Roses are scentless hopeless are the morns	H
Rest is but weakness laughter crackling thorns	H
If thou the Truth do not make them the true	N
Thou art my life O Christ and nothing else will do	N
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Thou art here in heaven I know but not from here	K
Although thy separate self do not appear	M
If I could part the light from out the day	J
There I should have thee But thou art too near	M
How find thee walking when thou art the way	J
Oh present Christ make my eyes keen as stings	H
To see thee at their heart the glory even of things	H
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That thou art nowhere to be found agree	P
Wise men whose eyes are but for surfaces	H
Men with eyes opened by the second birth	B
To whom the seen husk of the unseen is	H
Descry thee soul of everything on earth	B
Who know thy ends thy means and motions see	P
Eyes made for glory soon discover thee	P
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Thou near then I draw nearer to thy feet	O
And sitting in thy shadow look out on the shine	Q
Ready at thy first word to leave my seat	O
Not thee thou goest too From every clod	O
Into thy footprint flows the indwelling wine	Q
And in my daily bread keen eyed I greet	O
Its being's heart the very body of God	O
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Thou wilt interpret life to me and men	R
Art nature yea my own soul's mysteries	H
Bringing truth out clear joyous to my ken	R
Fair as the morn trampling the dull night Then	R
The lone hill side shall hear exultant cries	H
The joyous see me joy the weeping weep	S
The watching smile as Death breathes on me his cold sleep	S
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I search my heart I search and find no faith	T
Hidden He may be in its many folds	H
I see him not revealed in all the world	O
Duty's firm shape thins to a misty wraith	T
No good seems likely To and fro I am hurled	O
I have no stay Only obedience holds	H
I haste I rise I do the thing he saith	T
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Thou wouldst not have thy man crushed back to clay	J
It must be God thou hast a strength to give	U
To him that fain would do what thou dost say	J
Else how shall any soul repentant live	V
Old griefs and new fears hurrying on dismay	J
Let pain be what thou wilt kind and degree	P
Only in pain calm thou my heart with thee	P
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I will not shift my ground like Moab's king	W
But from this spot whereon I stand I pray	J
From this same barren rock to thee I say	J
Lord in my commonness in this very thing	W
That haunts my soul with folly through the clay	J
Of this my pitcher see the lamp's dim flake	X
And hear the blow that would the pitcher break	X
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Be thou the well by which I lie and rest	O
Be thou my tree of life my garden ground	O
Be thou my home my fire my chamber blest	O
My book of wisdom loved of all the best	O
Oh be my friend each day still newer found	O
As the eternal days and nights go round	O
Nay nay thou art my God in whom all loves are bound	O
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Two things at once thou know'st I cannot think	Y
When busy with the work thou givest me	P
I cannot consciously think then of thee	P
Then why when next thou lookest o'er the brink	Y
Of my horizon should my spirit shrink	Y
Reproached and fearful nor to greet thee run	L
Can I be two when I am only one	L
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My soul must unawares have sunk awry	Z
Some care poor eagerness ambition of work	A2
Some old offence that unforgiving did lurk	A2
Or some self gratulation soft and sly	Z
Something not thy sweet will not the good part	O
While the home guard looked out stirred up the old murk	A2
And so I gloomed away from thee my Heart	O
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Therefore I make provision ere I begin	B2
To do the thing thou givest me to do	O
Praying Lord wake me oftener lest I sin	B2
Amidst my work open thine eyes on me	P
That I may wake and laugh and know and see	P
Then with healed heart afresh catch up the clue	O
And singing drop into my work anew	O
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If I should slow diverge and listless stray	J
Into some thought feeling or dream unright	O
O Watcher my backsliding soul affray	J
Let me not perish of the ghastly blight	O
Be thou O Life eternal in me light	O
Then merest approach of selfish or impure	J
Shall start me up alive awake secure	J
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Lord I have fallen again a human clod	O
Selfish I was and heedless to offend	O
Stood on my rights Thy own child would not send	O
Away his shreds of nothing for the whole God	O
Wretched to thee who savest low I bend	O
Give me the power to let my rag rights go	E
In the great wind that from thy gulf doth blow	E
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Keep me from wrath let it seem ever so right	O
My wrath will never work thy righteousness	H
Up up the hill to the whiter than snow shine	Q
Help me to climb and dwell in pardon's light	O
I must be pure as thou or ever less	H
Than thy design of me therefore incline	Q
My heart to take men's wrongs as thou tak'st mine	Q
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Lord in thy spirit's hurricane I pray	J
Strip my soul naked dress it then thy way	J
Change for me all my rags to cloth of gold	O
Who would not poverty for riches yield	O
A hovel sell to buy a treasure field	O
Who would a mess of porridge careful hold	O
Against the universe's birthright old	O
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Help me to yield my will in labour even	B2
Nor toil on toil greedy of doing heap	S
Fretting I cannot more than me is given	L
That with the finest clay my wheel runs slow	E
Nor lets the lovely thing the shapely grow	E
That memory what thought gives it cannot keep	S
And nightly rimes ere morn like cistus petals go	E
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'Tis shall thy will be done for me or mine	Q
And I be made a thing not after thine	Q
My own and dear in paltriest details	H
Shall I be born of God or of mere man	I
Be made like Christ or on some other plan	I
I let all run set thou and trim my sails	H
Home then my course let blow whatever gales	H
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With thee on board each sailor is a king	W
Nor I mere captain of my vessel then	R
But heir of earth and heaven eternal child	O
Daring all truth nor fearing anything	W
Mighty in love the servant of all men	R
Resenting nothing taking rage and blare	J
Into the Godlike silence of a loving care	J
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I cannot see my God a reason why	Z
From morn to night I go not gladsome free	J
For if thou art what my soul thinketh thee	J
There is no burden but should lightly lie	Z
No duty but a joy at heart must be	J
Love's perfect will can be nor sore nor small	C2
For God is light in him no darkness is at all	C2
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'Tis something thus to think and half to trust	O
But ah my very heart God born should lie	Z
Spread to the light clean clear of mire and rust	O
And like a sponge drink the divine sunbeams	H
What resolution then strong swift and high	Z
What pure devotion or to live or die	Z
And in my sleep what true what perfect dreams	H
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There is a misty twilight of the soul	D2
A sickly eclipse low brooding o'er a man	I
When the poor brain is as an empty bowl	D2
And the thought spirit weariful and wan	E2
Turning from that which yet it loves the best	O
Sinks moveless with life poverty opprest	O
Watch then O Lord thy feebly glimmering coal	D2
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I cannot think in me is but a void	O
I have felt much and want to feel no more	J
My soul is hungry for some poorer fare	J
Some earthly nectar gold not unalloyed	O
The little child that's happy to the core	J
Will leave his mother's lap run down the stair	J
Play with the servants is his mother annoyed	O
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I would not have it so Weary and worn	F2
Why not to thee run straight and be at rest	O
Motherward with toy new or garment torn	F2
The child that late forsook her changeless breast	O
Runs to home's heart the heaven that's heavenliest	O
In joy or sorrow feebleness or might	O
Peace or commotion be thou Father my delight	O
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The thing I would say still comes forth with doubt	O
And difference is it that thou shap'st my ends	H
Or is it only the necessity	O
Of stubborn words that shift sluggish about	O
Warping my thought as it the sentence bends	H
Have thou a part in it O Lord and I	Z
Shall say a truth if not the thing I try	Z
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Gather my broken fragments to a whole	D2
As these four quarters make a shining day	O
Into thy basket for my golden bowl	D2
Take up the things that I have cast away	O
In vice or indolence or unwise play	O
Let mine be a merry all receiving heart	O
But make it a whole with light in every part	O