Lie, little cow, and chew thy cud,
The farmer soon will shift thy tether;
Chirp, linnet, on the frozen mud,
Sun and song will come together;
Wait, soul, for God, and thou shalt bud,
He waits thy waiting with his weather.
Waiting (ii)
George Macdonald
(1)
Poem topics: god, song, sun, together, weather, soul, wait, frozen, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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