God's Grandeur
The world is changed with the grandeur god.
It will flame out,
like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to agreatness,
like the ooze of oil crushed.
Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generation have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleard, smeared with toil;
And wears men's smudge and shares men's smell:
the soil is bare now, noor 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.
By Gerard Manley Hopkins
The world is changed with the grandeur god.
It will flame out,
like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to agreatness,
like the ooze of oil crushed.
Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generation have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleard, smeared with toil;
And wears men's smudge and shares men's smell:
the soil is bare now, noor 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.
By Gerard Manley Hopkins
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