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Poem by George MacDonald
If in my arms I bore my child, Would he cry out for fear Because the night was dark and wild And no one else was near? Shall I then treat thee, Father, as My fatherhood would grieve? I will be hopeful, though, alas, I cannot quite believe! I had no power, no wish to be: Thou madest me half blind! The darkness comes! I cling to thee! Be thou my perfect mind.
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