The Poetical Works of George MacDonald

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IV.

To all the world mine eyes are blind:

Their drop serene is--night,

With stores of snow piled up the wind

An awful airy height.

And yet 'tis but a mote in the eye:

The simple faithful stars

Beyond are shining, careless high,

Nor heed our storms and jars.

And when o'er storm and jar I climb--

Beyond life's atmosphere,

I

shall behold the lord of time And space--of world and year.

Oh vain, far quest!--not thus my heart

Shall ever find its goal!

I

turn me home--and there thou art, My Father, in my soul!

SONGS OF THE SPRING DAYS.

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