11 September 2005

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Moonrise June 19

I awoke in the midsummer not-to-call night, |
                in the white and the walk of the morning:
The móon dwíndled and thínned to the frínge |
                of a fíngernail héld to the cándle,
Or páring of páradisáïcal frúit, |
                lóvely in wáning but lústerless,
Stepped from the stool, drew back from the barrow, |
                of dark Maenefa the mountain;
A cusp still clasped him, a fluke yet fanged him, |
                entangled him, not quit utterly.
This was the prized, the desirable sight, |
                unsought, presented so easily,
Parted me leaf and leaf, divided me, |
                eyelid and eyelid of slumber.

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