The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes — Volume 1. George MacDonaldЧитать онлайн книгу.

        But at the last, hunger and waking love

        Made him remember his old happy home.

        "How many servants in my father's house

        Have plenty, and to spare!" he said. "I'll go

        And say, 'I have done very wrong, my father;

        I am not worthy to be called your son;

        Put me among your servants, father, please.'"

        Then he rose up and went; but thought the road

        So much, much farther to walk back again,

        When he was tired and hungry. But at last

        He saw the blue top of the great big hill

        That stood beside his father's house; and then

        He walked much faster. But a great way off,

        His father saw him coming, lame and weary

        With his long walk; and very different

        From what he had been. All his clothes were hanging

        In tatters, and his toes stuck through his shoes—

       Lily (sobbing). Like that poor beggar I saw yesterday?

        Julian.

        Yes, my dear child.

        Lily.

                              And was he dirty too?

        Julian.

        Yes, very dirty; he had been so long

        Among the swine.

        Lily.

                Is it all true though, father?

        Julian.

        Yes, my darling; all true, and truer far

        Than you can think.

        Lily.

                         What was his father like?

        Julian.

        A tall, grand, stately man.

        Lily.

                                    Like you, dear father?

        Julian.

        Like me, only much grander.

        Lily.

                                     I love you

        The best though.

        Julian.

                            Well, all dirty as he was,

        And thin, and pale, and torn, with staring eyes,

        His father knew him, the first look, far off,

        And ran so fast to meet him! put his arms

        Around his neck and kissed him.

        Lily.

                                 Oh, how dear!

        I love him too;—but not so well as you.

        Julian.

        There is your mother.

        Lily.

                                I am glad, so glad!

        Lilia.

        You naughty child, why are you not in bed?

        Lily

        (pouting).

        I am not naughty. I am afraid to go,

        Because you don't go with me into sleep;

        And when I see things, and you are not there,

        Nor father, I am so frightened, I cry out,

        And stretch my hands, and so I come awake.

        Come with me into sleep, dear mother; come.

        Lilia.