The Poetry Corner

To An Autograph-Hunter

By George MacDonald

Seek not my name--it doth no virtue bear; Seek, seek thine own primeval name to find-- The name God called when thy ideal fair Arose in deeps of the eternal mind. When that thou findest, thou art straight a lord Of time and space--art heir of all things grown; And not my name, poor, earthly label-word, But I myself thenceforward am thine own. Thou hearest not? Or hearest as a man Who hears the muttering of a foolish spell? My very shadow would feel strange and wan In thy abode:--I say No, and Farewell. Thou understandest? Then it is enough; No shadow-deputy shall mock my friend; We walk the same path, over smooth and rough, To meet ere long at the unending end.