Vox Populi

A curated webspace for Poetry, Politics, and Nature with over 20,000 daily subscribers and over 8,000 archived posts.

Gerard Manley Hopkins: Spring

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring –          
   When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;          
   Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush          
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring          
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing; 
   The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush          
   The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush          
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.          

What is all this juice and all this joy?          
   A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning 
In Eden garden. – Have, get, before it cloy,          
   Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,          
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,          
   Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.   

Public Domain

Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844 – 1889) was an English poet and Jesuit priest, whose posthumous fame placed him among leading Victorian poets. His prosody – notably his concept of sprung rhythm – established him as an innovator, as did his praise of God through vivid use of imagery and nature. Only after his death did a few of Hopkins’s poems appear in anthologies where they were recognized for their innovative use of imagery and rhythm. By 1930 Hopkins’s work was seen as one of the most original literary advances of his century.


Discover more from Vox Populi

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

6 comments on “Gerard Manley Hopkins: Spring

  1. laureanne2013
    April 14, 2023
    Laure-Anne's avatar

    “The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
    With richness” this is what I’ll recite all day!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Mary Jane White
    April 14, 2023
    Mary Jane White's avatar

    Marvelous!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sean Sexton
    April 14, 2023
    Sean Sexton's avatar

    So fabulously peculiar—there is no linguistic
    construct equal to his of any other voice or time. I’ve memorized a handful of them, maybe “Spring” is next.
    Why do men then now not reck his rod! Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

    Liked by 2 people

Leave a reply to Vox Populi Cancel reply

Blog Stats

  • 5,681,142

Archives

Discover more from Vox Populi

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading