The Diary of an Old Soul | Page 3

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A Book of Strife in the Form of The Diary of an Old Soul
by George MacDonald
The Diary of an Old Soul was first published in 1880.
[The dedication refers to the fact that the
book was originally
published using only the
right-hand side pages of the book, leaving

the left-hand side blank to allow for and
acknowledge any thoughtful
reader responses.]
JB
DEDICATION
Sweet friends, receive my offering. You will find
Against each
worded page a white page set:--
This is the mirror of each friendly
mind
Reflecting that. In this book we are met.
Make it, dear hearts,
of worth to you indeed:--
Let your white page be ground, my print be
seed,
Growing to golden ears, that faith and hope shall feed.
YOUR OLD SOUL
The Diary of an Old Soul.
JANUARY.
1.
LORD, what I once had done with youthful might,
Had I been from
the first true to the truth,
Grant me, now old, to do--with better sight,

And humbler heart, if not the brain of youth;
So wilt thou, in thy
gentleness and ruth,
Lead back thy old soul, by the path of pain,

Round to his best--young eyes and heart and brain.
2.

A dim aurora rises in my east,
Beyond the line of jagged questions
hoar,
As if the head of our intombed High Priest
Began to glow
behind the unopened door:
Sure the gold wings will soon rise from
the gray!--
They rise not. Up I rise, press on the more,
To meet the
slow coming of the Master's day.
3.
Sometimes I wake, and, lo! I have forgot,
And drifted out upon an
ebbing sea!
My soul that was at rest now resteth not,
For I am with
myself and not with thee;
Truth seems a blind moon in a glaring morn,

Where nothing is but sick-heart vanity:
Oh, thou who knowest!
save thy child forlorn.
4.
Death, like high faith, levelling, lifteth all.
When I awake, my
daughter and my son,
Grown sister and brother, in my arms shall fall,

Tenfold my girl and boy. Sure every one
Of all the brood to the old
wings will run.
Whole-hearted is my worship of the man
>From
whom my earthly history began.
5.
Thy fishes breathe but where thy waters roll;
Thy birds fly but within
thy airy sea;
My soul breathes only in thy infinite soul;
I breathe, I
think, I love, I live but thee.
Oh breathe, oh think,--O Love, live into
me;
Unworthy is my life till all divine,
Till thou see in me only
what is thine.
6.
Then shall I breathe in sweetest sharing, then
Think in harmonious
consort with my kin;
Then shall I love well all my father's men,

Feel one with theirs the life my heart within.
Oh brothers! sisters holy!
hearts divine!
Then I shall be all yours, and nothing mine--
To

every human heart a mother-twin.
7.
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 for evermore.--
A mother angel, see! folding
each wing,
Soft-walking, crosses straight the empty floor,
And
opens to the obstinate praying thing.
8.
Were there but some deep, holy spell, whereby
Always I should
remember thee--some mode
Of feeling the pure heat-throb momently

Of the spirit-fire still uttering this I!--
Lord, see thou to