On ear and ear noises too old to end |
Trench―
right, the tide that ramps against the shore; |
With a flood or a fall, low lull-off or
all roar, |
Frequenting there while moon shall wear
and wend.
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Left hand, off land, I hear the lark
ascend, |
His rash-fresh re-winded new-skeinèd
score |
In crisps of curl off wild winch whirl,
and pour |
And pelt music, till none’s to spill
nor spend.
|
How these two shame this shallow and
frail town! |
How ring right out our sordid turbid
time, |
Being pure ! We, life’s pride and
cared-for crown,
|
Have lost that cheer and charm of
earth’s past prime: |
Our make and making break, are
breaking, down |
To man’s last dust, drain fast towards
man’s first slime.
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Gerard
Manley Hopkins |
Classic Poems |
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[ The Sea and the Skylark ] [ Windhover ] [ Spring ] [ Hurrahing in Harvest ] [ God's Grandeur ] [ The Wreck of the Deutschland ] [ The Caged Skylark ] [ Moonrise ] [ Inversnaid ] [ Pied Beauty ] [ as kingfishers catch fire ] [ In The Valley of the Elwy ] [ The May Magnificat ] |
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