Poet George MacDonald



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Summer Song

“Murmuring, ‘twixt a murmur and moan,
Many a tune in a single tone,
For every ear with a secret true-
The sea-shell wants to whisper to you.”

“Yes-I hear it-far and faint,
Like thin-drawn prayer of drowsy saint;
Like the muffled sounds of a summer rain;
Like the wash of dreams in a weary brain.”

“By smiling lip and fixed eye,
You are hearing a song within the sigh:
The murmurer has many a lovely phrase-
Tell me, darling, the words it says.”

“I hear a wind on a boatless main
Sigh like the last of a vanishing pain;
On the dreaming waters dreams the moon-
But I hear no words in the doubtful tune.”

“If it tell thee not that I love thee well,
'Tis a senseless, wrinkled, ill-curved shell:
If it be not of love, why sigh or sing?
'Tis a common, mechanical, stupid thing!”

“It murmurs, it whispers, with prophet voice
Of a peace that comes, of a sealed choice;
It says not a word of your love to me,
But it tells me I love you eternally.”



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