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After An Old Legend.

Topics: classic

The monk was praying in his cell,         With bowed head praying sore;     He had been praying on his knees         For two long hours and more.     As of themselves, all suddenly,         His eyelids opened wide;     Before him on the ground he saw         A man's feet close beside;     And almost to the feet came down         A garment wove throughout;     Such garment he had never seen         In countries round about!     His eyes he lifted tremblingly         Until a hand they spied:     A chisel-scar on it he saw,         And a deep, torn scar beside.     His eyes they leaped up to the face,         His heart gave one wild bound,     Then stood as if its work were done--         The Master he had found!     With sudden clang the convent bell         Told him the poor did wait     His hand to give the daily bread         Doled at the convent-gate.     Then Love rose in him passionate,         And with Duty wrestled strong;     And the bell kept calling all the time         With merciless iron tongue.     The Master stood and looked at him         He rose up with a sigh:     "He will be gone when I come back         I go to him by and by!"     He chid his heart, he fed the poor         All at the convent-gate;     Then with slow-dragging feet went back         To his cell so desolate:     His heart bereaved by duty done,         He had sore need of prayer!     Oh, sad he lifted the latch!--and, lo,         The Master standing there!     He said, "My poor had not to stand         Wearily at thy gate:     For him who feeds the shepherd's sheep         The shepherd will stand and wait."     Yet, Lord--for thou would'st have us judge,         And I will humbly dare--     If he had staid, I do not think         Thou wouldst have left him there.     Thy voice in far-off time I hear,         With sweet defending, say:     "The poor ye always have with you,         Me ye have not alway!"     Thou wouldst have said: "Go feed my poor,         The deed thou shalt not rue;     Wherever ye do my father's will         I always am with you."

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"The monk was praying in his cell,..."

George MacDonald's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "After An Old Legend."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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