Gerard Manley Hopkins

Hurrahing in Harvest

Summer ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the stooks rise
⁠	Around; up above, what wind-walks! what lovely behaviour
⁠	Of silk-sack clouds! has wilder, wilful-wavier
Meal-drift moulded ever and melted across skies?


I walk, I lift up, I lift up heart, eyes,
⁠	Down all that glory in the heavens to glean our Saviour;
	⁠And, éyes, heárt, what looks, what lips yet gave you a
Rapturous love's greeting of realer, of rounder replies?


And the azurous hung hills are his world-wielding shoulder
⁠	Majestic—as a stallion stalwart, very-violet-sweet!—
These things, these things were here and but the beholder
	⁠Wanting; which two when they once meet,
The heart rears wings bold and bolder
	⁠And hurls for him, O half hurls earth for him off under his feet.