To An Autograph-Hunter - Poem 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
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.
Comments about To An Autograph-Hunter by George MacDonald
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye