Offering

Lord, I have laid my heart upon Thy altar,

But I cannot get the wood to burn;

It is hardly flames ere it begins to falter,

And to the dark return.

Old sap, or night-fallen dew, has dampened the fuel;

In vain my breath would flame provoke.

Yet see! at every poor attempt's renewal,

To Thee ascends the smoke.

'Tis all I have -- smoke, failure, foiled endeavor,

Coldness and doubt and palsied lack;

Such as I have I send Thee, perfect Giver --

Send Thou Thy lightening back!

Poem by George MacDonald
Illustration by Vincent van Gogh