Explore "Power" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Power that is not of God, however great, / Is but the downward rushing and the glare / Of a swift meteor that hath lost its share / In the one impulse which doth animate / The parent mass: emblem to me of fate!
Which through vast nightly wastes doth onward fare, / Wild-eyed and headlong, rent away from prayer -- / A moment brilliant, then most desolate!
And, O my brothers, shall we ever learn / From all the things we see continually / That pride is but the empty mockery / Of what is strong in man! Not so the stern / And sweet repose of soul which we can earn / Only through reverence and humility!