Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 186 pages of information about Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems.


(Lyra Eucharistica, 1863.)

Once I thought to sit so high
In the Palace of the sky;
Now, I thank God for His Grace,
If I may fill the lowest place.

Once I thought to scale so soon
Heights above the changing moon;
Now, I thank God for delay—­
To-day, it yet is called to-day.

While I stumble, halt and blind,
Lo!  He waiteth to be kind; 10
Bless me soon, or bless me slow,
Except He bless, I let not go.

Once for earth I laid my plan,
Once I leaned on strength of man,
When my hope was swept aside,
I stayed my broken heart on pride: 

Broken reed hath pierced my hand;
Fell my house I built on sand;
Roofless, wounded, maimed by sin,
Fightings without and fears within:  20

Yet, a tree, He feeds my root;
Yet, a branch, He prunes for fruit;
Yet, a sheep, these eves and morns,
He seeks for me among the thorns.

With Thine Image stamped of old,
Find Thy coin more choice than gold;
Known to Thee by name, recall
To Thee Thy home-sick prodigal.

Sacrifice and Offering
None there is that I can bring, 30
None, save what is Thine alone: 
I bring Thee, Lord, but of Thine Own—­

Broken Body, Blood Outpoured,
These I bring, my God, my Lord;
Wine of Life, and Living Bread,
With these for me Thy Board is spread.


(Lyra Eucharistica, 1863.)

I am pale with sick desire,
  For my heart is far away
From this world’s fitful fire
  And this world’s waning day;
In a dream it overleaps
  A world of tedious ills
To where the sunshine sleeps
  On th’ everlasting hills. 
  Say the Saints—­There Angels ease us
    Glorified and white. 10
  They say—­We rest in Jesus,
    Where is not day nor night.

My Soul saith—­I have sought
  For a home that is not gained,
I have spent yet nothing bought,
  Have laboured but not attained;
My pride strove to rise and grow,
  And hath but dwindled down;
My love sought love, and lo! 
  Hath not attained its crown. 20
  Say the Saints—­Fresh Souls increase us,
    None languish nor recede. 
  They say—­We love our Jesus,
    And He loves us indeed.

I cannot rise above,
  I cannot rest beneath,
I cannot find out Love,
  Nor escape from Death;
Dear hopes and joys gone by
  Still mock me with a name; 30
My best beloved die
  And I cannot die with them. 
  Say the Saints—­No deaths decrease us,
    Where our rest is glorious. 
  They say—­We live in Jesus,
    Who once died for us.

Project Gutenberg
Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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