Spring
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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
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.
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