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1824–1905

IV.

George MacDonald

Joy! O joy! the dawning sea Answers to the dawning sky, Foretaste of the coming glee When the sun will lord it high!

See the swelling radiance growing To a dazzling glory-might! See the shadows gently going ‘ Twixt the wave-tops wild with light!

Hear the smiting billows clang! See the falling billows lean Half a watery vault, and hang Gleaming with translucent green,

Then in thousand fleeces fall, Thundering light upon the strand!— This the whiteness which did call Through the dusk, across the land!

See, a boat! Out, out we dance! Fierce blasts swoop upon my sail! What a terrible expanse — Tumbling hill and heaving dale!

Stayless, helpless, lost I float, Captive to the lawless free! But a prison is my boat! Oh, for petrel-wings to flee!

Look below: each watery whirl Cast in beauty's living mould! Look above: each feathery curl Dropping crimson, dropping gold!—

Oh, I tremble in the flush Of the everlasting youth! Love and awe together rush: I am free in God, the Truth!

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IV. · George MacDonald · Poetry Cove