Gerard Manley Hopkins

,Felix Randal the farrier, O is he dead then? my duty all ended Who have watched his mould of man, big-boned and hardy-handsome Pining, pining, till time when reason rambled in it, and some ?Fatal four disorders, fleshed there, all contended

,No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief .More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring ?Comforter, where, where is your comforting ?Mary, mother of us, where is your relief

هو جيرارد مانلي هوبكنز يعتبر من أعظم شعراء العصر الفيكتوري ونظرًا لأن أسلوبه كان مختلفًا تمامًا عن أسلوب معاصريه، لم يتم قبول أفضل قصائده للنشر خلال حياته

,This darksome burn, horseback brown ,His rollrock highroad roaring down In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam .Flutes and low to the lake falls home

;As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame  As tumbled over rim in roundy wells  Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s  ;Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name 

,My aspens dear, whose airy cages quelled Quelled or quenched in leaves the leaping sun ;All felled, felled, are all felled Of a fresh and following folded rank Not spared, not one

!Look at the stars! look, look up at the skies  !O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air  !The bright boroughs, the circle-citadels there  !Down in dim woods the diamond delves! the elves’-eyes 

My own heart let me more have pity on; let ,Me live to my sad self hereafter kind Charitable; not live this tormented mind .With this tormented mind tormenting yet

;Not, I’ll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee  Not untwist — slack they may be — these last strands of man  ;In me ór, most weary, cry I can no more. I can  .Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be