Repost of Episode 790
In this episode, we’re concluding our series using selections from the poetry of George MacDonald. Today we’re reading November stanza 1 from “The Diary of an Old Soul.”
Thou art of this world, Christ. Thou know’st it all;Thou know’st our evens, our morns, our red and gray;How moons, and hearts, and seasons rise and fall;How we grow weary plodding on the way;Of future joy how present pain bereaves,Rounding us with a dark of mere decay,Tossed with a drift of summer-fallen leaves.
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