Sunday, 21 October 2007

ah! bright wings.

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.

—Gerard Manley Hopkins, God's Grandeur


David McKay said...

Loved Hopkins at school.
Haven't read it in years, but did remember the spelling


Campbell said...

Isn't it a beautiful poem? He uses words very sparingly, to great effect. Sorry to hear about the eye - the picture looks... uncomfortable.

Gordon Cheng said...

David: Of course! *Slaps self upside of the head*. I will say a little bell in my head went *ding* when I saw the spelling first, but I trusted my friend whose website I copied it off.

Campbell: Yes, it is beautiful. I don't read enough poetry but am trying to rectify the error.