Public Domain Poetry And Stories - The Journey. by George MacDonald
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The Journey.

    By George MacDonald



    I.

    Hark, the rain is on my roof!
    Every murmur, through the dark,
    Stings me with a dull reproof
    Like a half-extinguished spark.
    Me! ah me! how came I here,
    Wide awake and wide alone!
    Caught within a net of fear,
    All my dreams undreamed and gone!

    I will rise; I will go forth.
    Better dare the hideous night,
    Better face the freezing north
    Than be still, where is no light!
    Black wind rushing round me now,
    Sown with arrowy points of rain!
    Gone are there and then and now--
    I am here, and so is pain!

    Dead in dreams the gloomy street!
    I will out on open roads.
    Eager grow my aimless feet--
    Onward, onward something goads!
    I will take the mountain path,
    Beard the storm within its den;
    Know the worst of this dim wrath
    Harassing the souls of men.

    Chasm 'neath chasm! rock piled on rock!
    Roots, and crumbling earth, and stones!
    Hark, the torrent's thundering shock!
    Hark, the swaying pine tree's groans!
    Ah! I faint, I fall, I die,
    Sink to nothingness away!--
    Lo, a streak upon the sky!
    Lo, the opening eye of day!

    II.

    Mountain summits lift their snows
    O'er a valley green and low;
    And a winding pathway goes
    Guided by the river's flow;
    And a music rises ever,
    As of peace and low content,
    From the pebble-paven river
    Like an odour upward sent.

    And the sound of ancient harms
    Moans behind, the hills among,
    Like the humming of the swarms
    That unseen the forest throng.
    Now I meet the shining rain
    From a cloud with sunny weft;
    Now against the wind I strain,
    Sudden burst from mountain cleft.

    Now a sky that hath a moon
    Staining all the cloudy white
    With a faded rainbow--soon
    Lost in deeps of heavenly night!
    Now a morning clear and soft,
    Amber on the purple hills;
    Warm blue day of summer, oft
    Cooled by wandering windy rills!

    Joy to travel thus along
    With the universe around!
    Every creature of the throng,
    Every sight and scent and sound
    Homeward speeding, beauty-laden,
    Beelike, to its hive, my soul!
    Mine the eye the stars are made in!
    Mine the heart of Nature's whole!

    III.

    Hills retreating on each hand
    Slowly sink into the plain;
    Solemn through the outspread land
    Rolls the river to the main.
    In the glooming of the night
    Something through the dusky air
    Doubtful glimmers, faintly white,
    But I know not what or where.

    Is it but a chalky ridge
    Bared of sod, like tree of bark?
    Or a river-spanning bridge
    Miles away into the dark?
    Or the foremost leaping waves
    Of the everlasting sea,
    Where the Undivided laves
    Time with its eternity?

    Is it but an eye-made sight,
    In my brain a fancied gleam?
    Or a faint aurora-light
    From the sun's tired smoking team?
    In the darkness it is gone,
    Yet with every step draws nigh;
    Known shall be the thing unknown
    When the morning climbs the sky!

    Onward, onward through the night
    Matters it I cannot see?
    I am moving in a might
    Dwelling in the dark and me!
    End or way I cannot lose--
    Grudge to rest, or fear to roam;
    All is well with wanderer whose
    Heart is travelling hourly home.

    IV.

    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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