Gerard Manley Hopkins was an English poet, Roman Catholic convert, and Jesuit priest, whose 20th-century fame established him posthumously among the leading Victorian poets. His experimental explorations in prosody (especially sprung rhythm) and his use of imagery established him as a daring innovator in a period of largely traditional verse.
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
All things therefore are charged with love, are charged with God and if we knew how to touch them give off sparks and take fire, yield drops and flow, ring and tell of him.
NOT, I’ll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;Not untwist—slack they may be—these last strands of manIn me ór, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.
What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet; Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
Let Him easter in us, be a dayspring to the dimness of us, be a crimson-cresseted east.
O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fallFrightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed.
The Best ideal is the true and other truth is none. All glory be ascribed to the holy Three in One.
. . . Where we, even where we mean To mend her we end her, When we hew or delve:After-comers cannot guess the beauty been. Ten or twelve, only ten or twelve Strokes of havoc únselve The sweet especial scene, Rural scene, a rural scene, Sweet especial rural scene.
It is the blight man was born for. It is Margaret you mourn for.
The poetical language of an age should be the current language heightened.
Religion, you know, enters very deep; in reality it is the deepest impression I have in speaking to people, that they are or that they are not of my religion. .
