(Oh, and don't mind GMH; he makes up words. Extremely cool words. My advice is to say them out loud if you don't 'get' them).
That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the comfort of the Resurrection
 Cloud-puffball, torn tufts, tossed pillows ' flaunt forth, then chevy on an air-
built thoroughfare: heaven-roysterers, in gay-gangs ' they throng;
they glitter in marches.
they glitter in marches.
Down roughcast, down dazzling whitewash, ' 
wherever an elm arches,
Shivelights and shadowtackle in long ' 
lashes lace, lance, and pair.
Delightfully the bright wind boisterous ' 
ropes, wrestles, beats earth bare
Of yestertempest’s creases; in pool and rut peel parches
Of yestertempest’s creases; in pool and rut peel parches
Squandering ooze to squeezed ' 
dough, crust, dust; stanches, starches
Squadroned masks and manmarks ' 
treadmire toil there
Footfretted in it. Million-fuelèd, ' 
nature’s bonfire burns on.
But quench her bonniest, dearest ' 
to her, her clearest-selvèd spark
Man, how fast his firedint, ' 
his mark on mind, is gone!
Both are in an unfathomable, all is in an enormous dark
Drowned. O pity and indig ' 
nation! Manshape, that shone
Sheer off, disseveral, a star, ' 
death blots black out; nor mark 
 Is any of him at all so stark
But vastness blurs and time '
But vastness blurs and time '
beats level. Enough! the Resurrection,
A heart’s-clarion! Away grief’s gasping, joyless days, dejection. 
 Across my foundering deck shone
A beacon, an eternal beam. 
Flesh fade, and mortal trash
Fall to the residuary worm; world’s wildfire, leave but ash:
                In a flash, at a trumpet crash,I am all at once what Christ is, since he was what I am, and
This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond,
Is immortal diamond.
(Gerard Manley Hopkins)
Is immortal diamond.
(Gerard Manley Hopkins)
(My apologies for multiple postings... I hope I've gotten the formatting right this time!)

 
 
2 comments:
And it's still dodgy! I should not try to do clever things.
The 'this' in the first paragraph is I Corinthians 15.
What a triffic poem! I will read it again.
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