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1824–1905

III.

George MacDonald

I, strengthened, left him. Next in a close place, Mid houses crowded, dingy, barred, and high, Where men live not except to sell and buy, To me, leaving a doorway, came a grace.

( Surely from heaven she came, though all that race Walketh on human feet beneath the sky. ) I, going on, beheld not who was nigh, When a sweet girl looked up into my face

With earnest eyes, most maidenly sedate — Looked up to me, as I to him did look: ‘ Twas much to me whom sometimes men mistook. She asked me where we dwelt, that she might wait

Upon us there. I told her, and elate, Went on my way to seek another nook.

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III. · George MacDonald · Poetry Cove