Explore "Life-Weary" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O Thou that walkest with nigh hopeless feet / Past the one harbour, built for thee and thine.
Doth no stray odour from its table greet, / No truant beam from fire or candle shine?
At his wide door the host doth stand and call; / At every lattice gracious forms invite; / Thou seest but a dull-gray, solid wall / In forest sullen with the things of night!
Thou cravest rest, and Rest for thee doth crave, / The white sheet folded down, white robe apart. -- / Shame, Faithless! No, I do not mean the grave!
I mean Love's very house and hearth and heart.