stealing from the well-loved dust

October 4, 2011

and when I’m too tired to trust my own words, my own sense of judgement, too restless and uneasy with my own voice, you may have Hopkins. I will borrow him, steal him, beg him from the God who made him, but he is my own and I have claimed him as my own, inasmuch as you can claim anything you love as- yours. Belonging to you, in relation to you. Relative. Relating. Relative.

.

(Like leaves. Like wings. Like leaves.)

.

.

My own heart let me more have pity on; let
Me live to my sad self hereafter kind,
Charitable; not live this tormented mind
With this tormented mind tormenting yet.
I cast for comfort I can no more get
By groping round my comfortless, than blind
Eyes in their dark can day or thirst can find
Thirst’s all-in-all in all a world of wet.

Soul, self; come, poor Jackself, I do advise
You, jaded, let be; call off thoughts awhile
Elsewhere; leave comfort root-room; let joy size
At God knows when to God knows what; whose smile
‘s not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather – as skies
Betweenpie mountains – lights a lovely mile.

.

.

Gerard Manley Hopkins
Advertisements
%d bloggers like this: