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1824–1905

TO AN AUTOGRAPH-HUNTER.

George MacDonald

Seek not my name — it doth no virtue bear; Seek, seek thine own primeval name to find — The name God called when thy ideal fair Arose in deeps of the eternal mind.

When that thou findest, thou art straight a lord Of time and space — art heir of all things grown; And not my name, poor, earthly label-word, But I myself thenceforward am thine own.

Thou hearest not? Or hearest as a man Who hears the muttering of a foolish spell? My very shadow would feel strange and wan In thy abode:— I say No, and Farewell.

Thou understandest? Then it is enough; No shadow-deputy shall mock my friend; We walk the same path, over smooth and rough, To meet ere long at the unending end.

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TO AN AUTOGRAPH-HUNTER. · George MacDonald · Poetry Cove