The Poetry Corner

De Profundis

By George MacDonald

When I am dead unto myself, and let, O Father, thee live on in me, Contented to do nought but pay my debt, And leave the house to thee, Then shall I be thy ransomed--from the cark Of living, from the strain for breath, From tossing in my coffin strait and dark, At hourly strife with death! Have mercy! in my coffin! and awake! A buried temple of the Lord! Grow, Temple, grow! Heart, from thy cerements break! Stream out, O living Sword! When I am with thee as thou art with me, Life will be self-forgetting power; Love, ever conscious, buoyant, clear, and free, Will flame in darkest hour. Where now I sit alone, unmoving, calm, With windows open to thy wind, Shall I not know thee in the radiant psalm Soaring from heart and mind? The body of this death will melt away, And I shall know as I am known; Know thee my father, every hour and day, As thou know'st me thine own!