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Do you know, a horrible thing has happened to me. I have begun to doubt Tennyson.

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
Thing
Tennyson
Begun
Horrible
Doubt
Happened

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For myself I make no secret, I look forward with eager desire to seeing the matchless beauty of Christ's body in the heavenly light.
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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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Give beauty back, beauty, beauty, beauty, back to God, beauty's self and beauty's giver.
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What is all this juice and all this joy?
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Nothing is so beautiful as spring - when weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring the ear, it strikes like lightning to hear him sing.
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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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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.
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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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Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend With thee but, sir, so what I plead is just. Why do sinners' ways prosper? and why must Disappointment all I endeavour end?
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Nothing is so beautiful as spring- When weeds in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush.
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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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My own heart let me more have pity on let Me live to my sad self hereafter kind, Charitable not live this tormented mind With this tormented mind tormenting yet.
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Our Lord Jesus Christ , my brethren, is our hero, a hero all the world wants.
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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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Horrible to say, in a manner I am a Communist.
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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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That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows Alarms of wars, the daunting wars, the death of it?
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