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A poem by George MacDonald |
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To A.J. Scott: I walked all night: the darkness did not yield |
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Title: To A.J. Scott: I walked all night: the darkness did not yield Author: George MacDonald [More Titles by MacDonald] I walked all night: the darkness did not yield. A temple's front, cloud-curtained on the plain. O light, and awe, and silence! Entering in, Sweet sound of voices low, together tossed, Could call the far-fled music back to mind. With sister-arches, rising, throng on throng, Straightway I heard again but as the chimes Yet such the hope, one might be well content I heard thy voice, and humbly loved it more, Yet as the harp may, tremulous, combine Thy heart, with organ-tempests of its own, [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |