Homage to Hopkins
Hopkins, noteless, yet sings by letter,
Under his rolling word now, how shakes
The human heart, how racing makes
The mind new thought, breaking the fetter
Of weary ways and crying, Come, Haste
Haste my soul to him that ever makes
The life-blood flow and flow, and rakes
The ashy coals into the windy morn. No waste
Of kindling here; the fire will anew, now
Blaze! And brim with warm the wide and wide
New morn. Come my soul, the night long had
Its hold, but's gone now; Day's upon thy brow.
Find the long footstep, the impetuous stride
Follow, fellow, be free, and fully glad.
by Mary Daly
Gerard Manley Hopkins was one of the great Catholic poets of the 20th century. For a list of his poems, go to Bartleby's website on the 1918 publication of his poems.
I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.
G.M. Hopkins
