The Poetical Works of George MacDonald

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XIX.

I shall behold him, one day, nigh.

Assailed with glory keen,

My eyes will open wide, and I

Shall see as I am seen.

Of nothing can my heart be sure

Except the highest, best

When God I see with vision pure,

That sight will be my rest.

Forward I look with longing eye,

And still my hope renew;

Backward, and think that from the sky

Did come that falling dew.

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