The Poetry Corner

Sun And Moon.

By George MacDonald

First came the red-eyed sun as I did wake; He smote me on the temples and I rose, Casting the night aside and all its woes; And I would spurn my idleness, and take My own wild journey even like him, and shake The pillars of all doubt with lusty blows, Even like himself when his rich glory goes Right through the stalwart fogs that part and break. But ere my soul was ready for the fight, His solemn setting mocked me in the west; And as I trembled in the lifting night, The white moon met me, and my heart confess'd A mellow wisdom in her silent youth, Which fed my hope with fear, and made my strength a truth.