SPRING

SPRING

By Gerard Hopkins, S.J.

Nothing is so beautiful as spring—When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush:Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrushThrough the echoing timber does so rinse and wringThe ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;The glassy pear-tree leaves and blooms, they brushThe descending blue; that blue is all in a rushWith 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 beginningIn Eden garden. Have, get, before it cloy,Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with shining,Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.

Nothing is so beautiful as spring—When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush:Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrushThrough the echoing timber does so rinse and wringThe ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;The glassy pear-tree leaves and blooms, they brushThe descending blue; that blue is all in a rushWith 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 beginningIn Eden garden. Have, get, before it cloy,Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with shining,Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.

Nothing is so beautiful as spring—When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush:Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrushThrough the echoing timber does so rinse and wringThe ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;The glassy pear-tree leaves and blooms, they brushThe descending blue; that blue is all in a rushWith richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

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 pear-tree 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 beginningIn Eden garden. Have, get, before it cloy,Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with shining,Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.

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 shining,

Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,

Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.


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