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Full Online Book HomePoemsAs Kingfishers Catch Fire, Dragonflies Draw Flame
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As Kingfishers Catch Fire, Dragonflies Draw Flame Post by :gman23 Category :Poems Author :Gerard Manley Hopkins Date :August 2011 Read :1396

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As Kingfishers Catch Fire, Dragonflies Draw Flame

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves--goes itself; _myself_ it speaks and spells,
Crying _What I do is me: for that I came._

I say more: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is--
Christ--for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces.

(The end)
Gerard Manley Hopkins's poem: As Kingfishers Catch Fire, Dragonflies Draw Flame

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Ribblesdale Ribblesdale

EARTH, sweet Earth, sweet landscape, with leaves throngAnd louched low grass, heaven that dost appealTo, with no tongue to plead, no heart to feel;That canst but only be, but dost that long--Thou canst but be, but that thou well dost; strongThy plea with him who dealt, nay does now deal,Thy lovely dale down thus and thus bids reelThy river, and o'er gives all to rack or wrong. And what is Earth's eye, tongue, or heart else Else, but in dear and dogged man?--Ah, the heirTo his own selfbent so bound, so tied to his turn,To thriftless reave both our

Inversnaid Inversnaid

THIS darksome burn, horseback brown,His rollrock highroad roaring down,In coop and in comb the fleece of his foamFlutes and low to the lake falls home.A windpuff-bonnet of faawn-frothTurns and twindles over the brothOf a pool so pitchblack, fell-frowning,It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.Degged with dew, dappled with dewAre the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.What would the world be, once bereftOf wet and of wildness? Let them be left,O let them be left, wildness and wet;Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.(The end)Gerard Manley