Explore "Punishment" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Mourner, that dost deserve thy mournfulness, / Call thyself punished, call the earth thy hell; / Say, "God is angry, and I earned it well -- / I would not have him smile on wickedness:"
Say this, and straightway all thy grief grows less: -- / "God rules at least, I find as prophets tell, / And proves it in this prison! " -- then thy cell / Smiles with an unsuspected loveliness.
-- "A prison -- and yet from door and window-bar / I catch a thousand breaths of his sweet air!
Even to me his days and nights are fair!
He shows me many a flower and many a star!
And though I mourn and he is very far, / He does not kill the hope that reaches there! "