A little thing for joy and terror

February 6, 2011

 

O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall

Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap

May who ne’er hung there. Nor does long our small

durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,

Wretch, under a comfort served in a whirlwind: all

Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.


Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief’, ll. 9-14.

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One Response to “A little thing for joy and terror”

  1. samuel Says:

    devastating poem …


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