Explore "Provision" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Above my head the great pine-branches tower; / Backwards and forwards each to the other bends, / Beckoning the tempest-cloud which hither wends / Like a slow-laboured thought, heavy with power: / Hark to the patter of the coming shower!
Let me be silent while the Almighty sends / His thunder-word along -- but when it ends / I will arise and fashion from the hour / Words of stupendous import, fit to guard / High thoughts and purposes, which I may wave, / When the temptation cometh close and hard, / Like fiery brands betwixt me and the grave / Of meaner things -- to which I am a slave, / If evermore I keep not watch and ward.