God's Grandeur

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 |&| 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 |&| with ah! bright wings.

by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Comments (12)

This poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins fill my senses with the grandeur of God. The rhythm of the words just pierces the mind and refreshes the soul.
A poem which after nearly 150 years of further degradation of the earth and spirit, still lifts my hopes and encourages me.
It is so ghatia
The poem deserves a better reader! Is that a robot? so sad to miss such an opportunity!
The world is charged with the grandeur of God, but man in all of his strivings has wrecked upon nature much destruction, and yet nature is never spent. A wondrous contemplation of God, man and nature.
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