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Let Him easter in us, be a dayspring to the dimness of us, be a crimson-cresseted east.
Gerard Manley Hopkins
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Gerard Manley Hopkins
Age: 45 †
Born: 1844
Born: June 28
Died: 1889
Died: July 8
Poet
Writer
London
England
Hopkins
East
Dimness
Crimson
Easter
More quotes by Gerard Manley Hopkins
I awoke in the Midsummer not-to-call night, in the white and the walk of the morning
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Searching nature I taste self but at one tankard, that of my own being.
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That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows Alarms of wars, the daunting wars, the death of it?
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I hold with the old-fashioned criticism that Browning is not really a poet, that he has all the gifts but the one needful and the pearls without the string rather one should say raw nuggets and rough diamonds.
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Religion, you know, enters very deep in reality it is the deepest impression I have in speaking to people, that they are or that they are not of my religion.
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The effect of studying masterpieces is to make me admire and do otherwise.
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Birds buildbut not I build no, but strain, Time's eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes. Mine,O thou lord of life, send my roots rain.
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Beauty is a relation, and the apprehension of it a comparison.
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I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day. What hours, O what black hours we have spent This night!
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What I do is me, for that I came.
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I thought how sadly beauty of inscape was unknown and buried away from simple people and yet how near at hand it was if they had eyes to see it and it could be called out everywhere again.
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Nothing is so beautiful as spring- When weeds in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush.
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Do you know, a horrible thing has happened to me. I have begun to doubt Tennyson.
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Give beauty back, beauty, beauty, beauty, back to God, beauty's self and beauty's giver.
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All things therefore are charged with love, are charged with God and if we knew how to touch them give off sparks and take fire, yield drops and flow, ring and tell of him.
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I do not write for the public. You are my public and I hope to convert you.
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When I compare myself, my being-myself, with anything else whatever, all things alike, all in the same degree, rebuff me with blank unlikeness.
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The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
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NOT, I’ll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee Not untwist—slack they may be—these last strands of man In me ór, most weary, cry I can no more. I can Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.
Gerard Manley Hopkins