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1824–1905

TWO RONDELS.

George MacDonald

When, in the mid-sea of the night, I waken at thy call, O Lord, The first that troop my bark aboard Are darksome imps that hate the light,

Whose tongues are arrows, eyes a blight — Of wraths and cares a pirate horde — Though on the mid-sea of the night It was thy call that waked me, Lord.

Then I must to my arms and fight — Catch up my shield and two-edged sword, The words of him who is thy word — Nor cease till they are put to flight;

Then in the mid-sea of the night I turn and listen for thee, Lord.

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TWO RONDELS. · George MacDonald · Poetry Cove