Explore "Blessed are the Meek, for they Shall Inherit the Earth" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A quiet heart, submissive, meek, / Father, do thou bestow, / Which more than granted, will not seek / To have, or give, or know.
Each little hill then holds its gift / Forth to my joying eyes; / Each mighty mountain then doth lift / My spirit to the skies.
Lo, then the running water sounds / With gladsome, secret things! / The silent water more abounds, / And more the hidden springs.
Live murmurs then the trees will blend / With all the feathered song; / The waving grass low tribute lend / Earth's music to prolong.
The sun will cast great crowns of light / On waves that anthems roar; / The dusky billows break at night / In flashes on the shore.
Each harebell, each white lily's cup, / The hum of hidden bee, / Yea, every odour floating up, / The insect revelry --
Each hue, each harmony divine / The holy world about, / Its soul will send forth into mine, / My soul to widen out.
And thus the great earth I shall hold, / A perfect gift of thine; / Richer by these, a thousandfold, / Than if broad lands were mine.