The dearest freshness

Oh woe to us in Munich: it is March, and snowy, cold, dreary, and grey, grey, grey.
For all who are feeling a little bit grey of soul: a ray of light via GMH, who reminds us that “there lives the dearest freshness deep down things.”
And if GMH could hold on to his faith in the freshness of things at the close of the Great War, well, we can make it through February with hope & sanity intact.
God’s Grandeur
by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1918)
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

You can do it, little guy! (image via Wikicommons)

Grow! Grow! (also via Wikicommons)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s