An angel saw me sitting by a brook, <br />Pleased with the silence, and the melodies <br />Of wind and water which did fall and rise: <br />He gently stirred his plumes and from them shook <br />An outworn doubt, which fell on me and took <br />The shape of darkness, hiding all the skies, <br />Blinding the sun, but giving to my eyes <br />An inextinguishable wish to look; <br />When, lo! thick as the buds of spring there came, <br />Crowd upon crowd, informing all the sky, <br />A host of splendours watching silently, <br />With lustrous eyes that wept as if in blame, <br />And waving hands that crossed in lines of flame, <br />And signalled things I hope to hold although I die!<br /><br />George MacDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/doubt-heralding-vision/
