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.

6 comments:

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! :)
-erin

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!