Great-hearted child, thy very being <br />The Son <br />, <br />Who know'st the hearts of all us prodigals;- <br />For who is prodigal but he who has gone <br />Far from the true to heart it with the false?- <br />Who, who but thou, that, from the animals', <br />Know'st all the hearts, up to the Father's own, <br />Can tell what it would be to be alone! <br /> <br />Alone! No father!-At the very thought <br />Thou, the eternal light, wast once aghast; <br />A death in death for thee it almost wrought! <br />But thou didst haste, about to breathe thy last, <br />And call'dst out <br />Father <br />ere thy spirit passed, <br />Exhausted in fulfilling not any vow, <br />But doing his will who greater is than thou. <br /> <br />That we might know him, thou didst come and live; <br />That we might find him, thou didst come and die; <br />The son-heart, brother, thy son-being give- <br />We too would love the father perfectly, <br />And to his bosom go back with the cry, <br />Father, into thy hands I give the heart <br />Which left thee but to learn how good thou art! <br /> <br />There are but two in all the universe- <br />The father and his children-not a third; <br />Nor, all the weary time, fell any curse! <br />Not once dropped from its nest an unfledged bird <br />But thou wast with it! Never sorrow stirred <br />But a love-pull it was upon the chain <br />That draws the children to the father again! <br /> <br />O Jesus Christ, babe, man, eternal son, <br />Take pity! we are poor where thou art rich: <br />Our hearts are small; and yet there is not one <br />In all thy father's noisy nursery which, <br />Merry, or mourning in its narrow niche, <br />Needs not thy father's heart, this very now, <br />With all his being's being, even as thou!<br /><br />George MacDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/christmas-1880/
