Dost thou mean sometimes that we should forget thee,
Dropping the veil of things ‘twixt thee and us?—
Ah, not that we should lose thee and regret thee!
But that, we turning from our windows thus,
The frost-fixed God should vanish from the pane,
Sun-melted, and a moment, Father, let thee
Look like thyself straight into heart and brain.
– George MacDonald