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Nothing is so beautiful as spring- When weeds in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush.
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
Wheels
Shoot
Thrush
Lovely
Lush
Spring
Hopkins
Beautiful
Timber
Nothing
Weeds
Long
Springtime
Weed
More quotes by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Life death all does end and each day dies with sleep.
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Summer ends now now, barbarous in beauty, the Stooks arise Around up above, what wind-walks! what lovely behavior Of silk-sack clouds! Has wilder, willful-waiver Meal-drift molded ever and melted across skies?
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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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That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows Alarms of wars, the daunting wars, the death of it?
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Every true poet, I thought, must be original and originality a condition of poetic genius so that each poet is like a species in nature (not an individuum genericum or specificum ) and can never recur. That nothing shd. be old or borrowed however cannot be.
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I am all at once what Christ is, ' since he was what I am, and This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, ' patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, Is immortal diamond.
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Searching nature I taste self but at one tankard, that of my own being.
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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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Let Him easter in us, be a dayspring to the dimness of us, be a crimson-cresseted east.
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Give beauty back, beauty, beauty, beauty, back to God, beauty's self and beauty's giver.
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ELECTED Silence, sing to me And beat upon my whorlèd ear, Pipe me to pastures still and be The music that I care to hear.
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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.
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God?is so great that all things give him glory if you mean they should.
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Natural heart's ivy, Patience masks Our ruins of wrecked past purpose.
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Horrible to say, in a manner I am a Communist.
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I awoke in the Midsummer not-to-call night, in the white and the walk of the morning
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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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As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame
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The effect of studying masterpieces is to make me admire and do otherwise.
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Our Lord Jesus Christ , my brethren, is our hero, a hero all the world wants.
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