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The Poetical Works of George MacDonald

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Oh wildly wild the roaring blast

Torments the fallen snow!

The wintry storms are up at last,

And care not how they go!

In foam-like wreaths the water hoar,

Rapt whistling in the air,

Gleams through the dismal twilight frore;

A region in despair,

spectral ocean lies outside, Torn by a tempest dark;

Its ghostly billows, dim descried,

Leap on my stranded bark.

Death-sheeted figures, long and white,

Rave driving through the spray;

Or, bosomed in the ghastly night,

Shriek doom-cries far away.

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