Explore "Smoke" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Lord, I have laid my heart upon thy altar / But cannot get the wood to burn; / It hardly flares ere it begins to falter / And to the dark return.
Old sap, or night-fallen dew, makes damp the fuel; / In vain my breath would flame provoke; / Yet see -- at every poor attempt's renewal / To thee ascends the smoke!
'Tis all I have -- smoke, failure, foiled endeavour, / Coldness and doubt and palsied lack: / Such as I have I send thee! -- perfect Giver, / Send thou thy lightning back.