I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.
What hours, O what black hours 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
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 decrees
Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;
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.

Added: on January 31st, 2005 at 6:49 PM | Viewed: 1517 times | Comments (1)

Poet: Gerard Manley Hopkins
Poem: I Wake And Feel The Fell Of Dark, Not Day
Volume: Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins
Year: Published/Written in 1880

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