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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

Ae nicht I was oot by mysel' upo' the shore, jist as
the stars war teetin' oot. An' it wasna as gien they war feart o'
the sun, an' pleast 'at he was gane, but as gien they war a' teetin'
oot to see what had come o' their Father o' Lichts. A' at ance I cam
to mysel', like oot o' some blin' delusion. Up I cuist my e'en
aboon--an' eh, there was the h'aven as God made it--awfu'!--big an'
deep, ay faddomless deep, an' fu' o' the wan'erin' yet steady lichts
'at naething can blaw oot, but the breath o' his mooth! Awa' up an'
up it gaed, an' deeper an' deeper! an' my e'en gaed traivellin' awa'
an' awa', till it seemed as though they never could win back to me.
A' at ance they drappit frae the lift like a laverock, an' lichtit
upo' the horizon, whaur the sea an' the sky met like richteousness
an' peace kissin' ane anither, as the psalm says. Noo I canna tell
what it was, but jist there whaur the earth an' the sky cam
thegither, was the meetin' o' my earthly sowl wi' God's h'avenly
sowl! There was bonny colours, an' bonny lichts, an' a bonny grit
star hingin' ower 't a', but it was nane o' a' thae things; it was
something deeper nor a', an' heicher nor a'! Frae that moment I
saw--no hoo the h'avens declare the glory o' God, but I saw them
declarin' 't, an' I wantit nae mair. Astronomy for me micht sit an'
wait for a better warl', whaur fowk didna weir oot their shune, an'
ither fowk hadna to men' them.


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