Explore "A Book of Strife in the Form of the Diary of an Old Soul" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
1. WHAT though my words glance sideways from the thing / Which I would utter in thine ear, my sire! / Truth in the inward parts thou dost desire -- / Wise hunger, not a fitness fine of speech: / The little child that clamouring fails to reach / With upstretched hand the fringe of her attire, / Yet meets the mother's hand down hurrying.
2. Even when their foolish words they turned on him, / He did not his disciples send away; / He knew their hearts were foolish, eyes were dim, / And therefore by his side needs must they stay. / Thou will not, Lord, send me away from thee. / When I am foolish, make thy cock crow grim; / If that is not enough, turn, Lord, and look on me.