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Sunday, July 12, 2015

Stirred For A Bird

Peregrine Falcon
(Anonymous Photo)


THE WINDHOVER

—Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)
 
To Christ Our Lord

I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
      
      dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
      
      Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding

High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing

In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
      
      As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
      
      Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding

Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of, the mastery of the thing. 

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
      
      Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion

Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier! 

      

      No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion

Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
      
      Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.

_______________________

—Medusa, noting that there is a commentary on this poem on Poetry Foundation that you might check out at www.poetryfoundation.org/learning/guide/182786#guide