| SUMMER ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the stooks arise | |
| Around; up above, what wind-walks! what lovely behaviour | |
| Of silk-sack clouds! has wilder, wilful-wavier | |
| Meal-drift moulded ever and melted across skies? | |
| I walk, I lift up, I lift up heart, eyes, | 5 |
| Down all that glory in the heavens to glean our Saviour; | |
| And, éyes, heárt, what looks, what lips yet gave you a | |
| Rapturous love’s greeting of realer, of rounder replies? | |
| And the azurous hung hills are his world-wielding shoulder | |
| Majestic—as a stallion stalwart, very-violet-sweet!— | 10 |
| These things, these things were here and but the beholder | |
| Wanting; which two when they once meet, | |
| The heart rears wings bold and bolder | |
| And hurls for him, O half hurls earth for him off under his feet. |
For this and all other Hopkins works, visit https://www.bartleby.com/122/
I love Hopkins' characteristic use of alliteration: "hung hills," "world-wielding," "stallion stalwart" etc. In the repetition of sheaves along a field we detect the Creator's majesty.
