Explore "Longing" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My heart is full of inarticulate pain, / And beats laborious. Cold ungenial looks / Invade my sanctuary. Men of gain, / Wise in success, well-read in feeble books, / No nigher come, I pray: your air is drear; / 'Tis winter and low skies when ye appear.
Beloved, who love beauty and fair truth, / Come nearer me; too near ye cannot come; / Make me an atmosphere with your sweet youth; / Give me your souls to breathe in, a large room; / Speak not a word, for, see, my spirit lies / Helpless and dumb; shine on me with your eyes.