I WAKE and feel the fell of dark, not day. | |
What hours, O what black hoürs we have spent | |
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went! | |
And more must, in yet longer light’s delay. | |
With witness I speak this. But where I say | 5 |
Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament | |
Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent | |
To dearest him that lives alas! away. | |
I am gall, I am heartburn. God’s most deep decree | |
Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me; | 10 |
Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse. | |
Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see | |
The lost are like this, and their scourge to be | |
As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse |
Monday, September 14, 2009
I Wake and Feel the Fell of Dark, Not Day (Gerard Manley Hopkins)
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