It wouldn't be the song it seems if it did not swallow up all their fear and pain too, and set them singing it themselves with all the rest. Somehow, I can't say how, it tells me that all is right that it is coming to swallow up all the cries. You see you and I are not going to be drowned, and so we might enjoy it.' 'But you have never heard the psalm, and you don't know what it is like. 'For they wouldn't hear the music of the far-away song and if they did, it wouldn't do them any good. So it would you if you could hear it.' 'No it wouldn't,' returned Diamond stoutly. I do not exactly know where it is, or what it means and I don't hear much of it, only the odour of its music, as it were, flitting across the great billows of the ocean outside this air in which I make such a storm but what I do hear, is quite enough to make me able to bear the cry from the drowning ship. A Victorian fairy tale that has enchanted readers for more than a hundred years: the magical story of Diamond, the son of a poor coachman, who is swept away by the North Winda radiant, maternal spirit with long, flowing hairand whose life is transformed by a brief glimpse of the beautiful country at the back of the north wind.
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