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That Holy Thing.

Topics: classic

They all were looking for a king         To slay their foes, and lift them high:     Thou cam'st a little baby thing         That made a woman cry.     O son of man, to right my lot         Nought but thy presence can avail;     Yet on the road thy wheels are not,         Nor on the sea thy sail!     My fancied ways why shouldst thou heed?         Thou com'st down thine own secret stair:     Com'st down to answer all my need,         Yea, every bygone prayer!

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"They all were looking for a king..."

"That Holy Thing." is a quintessential example of George MacDonald's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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