Gerard Manley Hopkins: 1844-1944

The stress of death came to the weary mind

Sworn to infinity and nothing less;

Thankful to feel at last the last duress

And leave the rack of living far behind.

Lost, lone, Gerard-forespent you were, not blind,

Who learned in stormy darkness to assess

The cost of the irrevocable yes

That locks the life where no conjectures find.

Go praised therefore and honored by strange tongues

Whose loyalties fall short of your fair choice

To slip the part and win the exceeding whole.

You have by purchase now your starry rungs

And we the cadence of an anguished voice:

1 am gall. I am heartburn, Were. God rest your soul.

Sister Mary Jeremy

Structure

15 lines · 1 stanza