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GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS

1844-1889

834                                            Heaven-Haven

A nun takes the veil

I HAVE desired to go
   Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail
  And a few lilies blow.
And I have asked to be
   Where no storms come,
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,
  And out of the swing of the sea.

835                                                  Pied Beauty

GLORY be to God for dappled things
   For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
    For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches wings;
   Landscape plotted and piecedfold, fallow, and plough;
    And àall tràades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
   Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
    With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
            Praise him.

836                                              The Habit of Perfection

ELECTED Silence, sing to me
And beat upon my whorlàd ear,
Pipe me to pastures still and be
The music that I care to hear.
Shape nothing, lips; be lovely-dumb:
It is the shut, the curfew sent
From there where all surrenders come
Which only makes you eloquent.
Be shellàd, eyes, with double dark
And find the uncreated light:
This ruck and reel which you remark
Coils, keeps, and teases simple sight.
Palate, the hutch of tasty lust,
Desire not to be rinsed with wine:
The can must be so sweet, the crust
So fresh that come in fasts divine!
Nostrils, your careless breath that spend
Upon the stir and keep of pride,
What relish shall the censers send
Along the sanctuary side!
O feel-of-primrose hands, O feet
That want the yield of plushy sward,
But you shall walk the golden street
And you unhouse and house the Lord.
And, Poverty, be thou the bride
And now the marriage feast begun,
And lily-coloured clothes provide
Your spouse not laboured-at nor spun.

837                                                      Felix Randal

FELIX RANDAL the farrier, O he is dead then? my duty
   all ended,
Who have watched his mould of man, big-boned and hardy-
  handsome
Pining, pining, till time when reason rambled in it and
   some
Fatal four disorders, fleshd there, all contended?
Sickness broke him. Impatient he cursed at first, but mended
Being anointed and all; though a heavenlier heart began some
Months earlier, since I had our sweet reprieve and ransom
Tenderd to him. Ah well, God rest him all road ever he
    offended!

This seeing the sick endears them to us, us too it endears.
My tongue had taught thee comfort, touch had quenchd thy
   tears,
Thy tears that touchd my heart, child, Felix, poor Felix
  Randal;

How far from then forethought of, all thy more boisterous
   years,
When thou at the random grim forge, powerful amidst peers,
Didst fettle for the great grey drayhorse his bright and batt-
      ering sandal!

 

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