The Poetical Works of George MacDonald
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The simplest joys that daily pass
Grow ecstasies in sleep;
- A
- wind on heights of waving grass In a dream has made me weep.
No wonder then my heart one night
Was joy-full to the brim:
- I
- was with one whose love and might Had drawn me close to him!
But from a church into the street
Came pouring, crowding on,
- A
- troubled throng with hurrying feet, And Lo, my friend was gone!
Alone upon a miry road
I walked a wretched plain;
Onward without a goal I strode
Through mist and drizzling rain.
Low mounds of ruin, ugly pits,
And brick-fields scarred the globe;
Those wastes where desolation sits
Without her ancient robe.
The dreariness, the nothingness
Grew worse almost than fear;
If ever hope was needful bliss,
Hope sure was needful here!
Did potent wish work joyous change
Like wizard's glamour-spell?
Wishes not always fruitless range,
And sometimes it is well!
- I
- know not. Sudden sank the way, Burst in the ocean-waves;
Behold a bright, blue-billowed bay,
Red rocks and sounding caves!
Dreaming, I wept. Awake, I ask--
Shall earthly dreams, forsooth,
Set the old Heavens too hard a task
To match them with the truth?