Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Magical Mystery Poem # 4

Can you guess who wrote this poem? (If the guessing comes hard then you may use any resources you want - except for the internet.)

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.


Sister Ames said...

woah! what the heck! that was beautiful!! It reminded me of "Knowledge of the Holy" which I just started and is by far a masterpiece!

Katie said...

I don't know this poem at all, though I'm sure that won't be a surprise. But I DO know the "Knowledge of the Holy" which is fantastic. Good choice Ames!

Queen of Arts and England said...

I have never seen this one before, but is certainly a good one!

How mysterious!

Erin said...

wow, awesome poem andrew. it was cool to find your blog! :)

Eriol said...

Gerard Manley Hopkins, and I did not cheat. I win!

Foolish Knight said...

You, Eriol, are awarded The Foolish Knight Virtual High Five of Feel-Goodness because you guessed the identity of the 'Magical Mystery Poem #4' correctly! Hooray! Go out and celebrate by shaking the hands of three (3) dentists from Dakota! Hooray!