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The Poetical Works of George MacDonald

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With vague dead gleam the morning white

Comes through the window-panes;

The clouds have fallen all the night,

Without the noise of rains.

As of departing, unseen ghost,

Footprints go from the door;

The man himself must long be lost

Who left those footprints hoar!

Yet follow thou; tread down the snow;

Leave all the road behind;

Heed not the winds that steely blow,

Heed not the sky unkind;

For though the glittering air grow dark,

The snow will shine till morn;

And long ere then one dear home-spark

Will winter laugh to scorn.

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