Lost And Found
I missed him when the sun began to bend;
I found him not when I had lost his rim;
With many tears I went in search of him…

And yet I found him—as I found the lark,
A sound in fields I heard but could not mark;
I found him nearest when I missed him most;
I found him in my heart, a life in frost,
A light I knew not till my soul was dark.
– George MacDonald

Borrowing The Barrowers