Gerard Manley Hopkins(1844–1889)
[Carrion Comfort]
Not, I'll not, carrion3 comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;
Not untwist—slack they may be—these last strands of man
In me or, most weary, cry J can no more. I can;
Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.
But ah, but O thou terrible, why wouldst thou rude on meroughly
Thy wring-world right foot4 rock lay a lionlimb against me scan
With darksome devouring eyes my bruised bones and fan,
O in turns of tempest, me heaped there; me frantic to avoid thee
and flee
Why That my chaff might fly; my grain lie, sheer and clear,
Nay in all that toil, that coil, 0 since (seems) I kissed the rod, tumult
Hand 5 rather, my heart lo! lapped strength, stole joy, would
laugh, cheer.
Cheer whom though The hero whose heaven-handling flung me,
foot trod
Me or me that fought him O which one is it each one That
night, that year
Of now done darkness I wretch lay wrestling with (my God!) my God.
1918