On ear and ear two 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.
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.
“The Sea and the Skylark” by Gerard Manley Hopkins
I’m not a fan of poetry (I suppose because I had none in my upbringing) but the verse of Hopkins always astounds me with its beauty. (I always feel it’s too great for me; too high above me.)
– If I remember right he was (is) the favorite poet of Ray Bradbury.
– p.s I make this comment because I’ve just picked up ‘Exiles’ by ‘Exiles’ by Ron Hansen. (I’m looking for a chance to read it.) It’s a novel that deals with Hopkins.