A Hidden Life

Home - George MacDonald - A Hidden Life

Prev | Next | Contents


VIII.

Thou wouldst have led us through the twilight land Where spirit shows by form, form is refined Away to spirit by transfiguring mind, Till they are one, and in the morn we stand; Treading thy footsteps, children, hand in hand, With sense divinely growing, till, combined, We heard the music of the planets wind In harmony with billows on the strand; Till, one with Earth and all God's utterance, We hardly knew whether the sun outspake, Or a glad sunshine from our spirits brake; Whether we think, or windy leaflets dance: Alas, O Poet Leader! for this good, Thou wert God's tragedy, writ in tears and blood.



Prev | Next | Contents