Dearest freshness

God’s Granduer
Gerard Manley Hopkins
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
I remember reading this and dissecting it in high school English class.  I remember the first time my very eccentric, confident, encouraging teacher read it to the class. I loved it. I just wanted to hear it read aloud again and once more. There is a stability in its words I need to be reminded of, a sacredness I need to drink from every so often to refresh my soul.
I just stumbled upon Hopkins’ words tonight while reading something else. However I found something I think I was looking for.
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