W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.
The Syrophenician Woman
George MacDonald (18241905)“G
She crieth after us.”
Nay, to the dogs ye cast it so;
Serve not a woman thus.
He speaks with truer tongue:
“It is not meet the children’s bread
Should to the dogs be flung.”
His tender voice did rue;
His face a gentle sadness wore,
And showed he suffered too.
Takes what she would have lent,
That those proud men their evil mood
May see, and so repent;
May burst in soaring flame,
From childhood deeper, holier,
If birthright not the same.
Under the table, eat
The crumbs the little ones let fall—
And that is not unmeet.”
She’ll wear the worst that comes;
Will clothe her, patient, in their scorn,
To share the healing crumbs.
Was not like water spilt:
“O woman, but thy faith is great!
Be it even as thou wilt.”
But, baffled, prayeth still!
What if he grant her heart’s desire
In fulness of her will!