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Poem: Gerard Manley Hopkins “God’s Grandeur” [Vol. 1, #30]

God's Grandeur
 
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
   It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
   It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
   And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with
     toil;
   And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell:
     the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
 
And for all this, nature is never spent;
   There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
   Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs--
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
   World broods with warm breast and with ah!
     bright wings.
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This entry was posted on Thursday, July 31st, 2008 at 11:31 am and is filed under *Poetry*, VOLUME 1. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

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