Hopkins Songs -
Gerard Manley Hopkins
I.
I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day. What hours, O what black hours we have spent This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went! And more must, in yet longer light’s delay. With witness I speak this. But where I say Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent To dearest him that lives alas! away. I am gall, I am heartburn. God’s most deep decree Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me; Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse. Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see The lost are like this, and their scourge to be As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse. II. The furl of fresh-leaved dogrose down His cheeks the forth-and-flaunting sun Had swarthed about with lion-brown Before the Spring was done. His locks like all a ravel-rope’s-end, With hempen strands in spray - Fallow, foam-fallow, hanks - fall’n off their ranks, Swung down at a disarray. Or like a juicy and jostling shock Of blue-bells sheaved in May Of wind-long fleeces on the flock A day off shearing day |
III.
My own heart let me have more pity on; let Me live to my sad self hereafter kind, Charitable; not live this tormented mind With this tormented mind tormenting yet. I cast for comfort I can no more get By groping round my comfortless, than blind Eyes in their dark can day or thirst can find Thirst’s all-in-all in all a world of wet. Soul, self; come, poor Jackself, I do advise You, jaded, let be; call off thoughts awhile Elsewhere; leave comfort root-room; let joy size At God knows when to God knows what; whose smile ‘s not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather - as skies Betweenpie mountains - lights a lovely mile. |