Wednesday, September 20<\/p>\n
\u201cit is the blight man was born for
\nit is Margaret you mourn for\u201d<\/p>\n
Several days ago a close friend told me that Hopkins\u2019 \u201cSpring and Fall,\u201d when she read it, whispered deep down in her imagination. \u00a0I remembered that this morning and wondered whether these elegiac 15 lines (a sonnet less one?) had found their way onto the Work Day\/Hard Time poetry list. \u00a0They had not; today they join six other gmh poems. \u00a0Thanks to my friend for bringing the poem to mind.<\/p>\n
Hopkins (1844-1889) lived through the British industrial revolution at its most imperial, British innovations in factory design, the world\u2019s master in ocean-going battleships, freighters, and luxury liners. \u00a0He lived close to the grinding wounds of expatriated farmers and machine-dominated factory workers. \u00a0Throughout his short life, he never lost his genius for sheer beauty either. \u00a0 Perhaps he moves so many readers because his ability to write in language that does not compromise its playful elegance for its hard-edge tragedies, nor vice versa.<\/p>\n
As Hopkins\u2019 poems go, \u201cSpring and Fall\u201d is pretty accessible even on first reading. \u00a0Perhaps, however, on second reading surprises lurk. \u00a0It\u2019s a good bet a second reading will have more pauses than the first.<\/p>\n
Mid-week. \u00a0blessings wherever you live and work.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
john, sj<\/p>\n
Spring & Fall: to a young child<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n Margaret, are you grieving Wednesday, September 20 \u201cit is the blight man was born for it is Margaret you mourn for\u201d Several days ago a close friend told me that Hopkins\u2019 \u201cSpring and Fall,\u201d when she read it, whispered deep down in her imagination. … Continue reading
\nOver Goldengrove unleaving?
\nLeaves, like the things of man, you
\nWith your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
\nAh! as the heart grows older
\nIt will come to such sights colder
\nBy and by, nor spare a sigh
\nThough worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
\nAnd yet you\u00a0w\u00edll<\/em>\u00a0weep and know why.
\nNow no matter, child, the name:
\nSorrow’s springs are the same.
\nNor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
\nWhat h\u00e9art h\u00e9ard of, gh\u00f3st gu\u00e9ssed:
\nIt is the blight man was born for,
\nIt is Margaret you mourn for.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"