That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the Comfort of the Resurrection Gerard Manley Hopkins

The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1967

Cloud-puffball, torn tufts, tossed pillows ' flaunt forth, then chevy on an air-
built thoroughfare: heaven-roysterers, in gay-gangs ' they throng; they glitter in marches.
Down roughcast, down dazzling whitewash, ' wherever an elm arches,
Shivelights and shadowtackle ín long ' lashes lace, lance, and pair.
Delightfully the bright wind boisterous ' ropes, wrestles, beats earth bare
Of yestertempest's creases; in pool and rut peel parches
Squandering ooze to squeezed ' dough, crúst, dust; stánches, stárches
Squadroned masks and manmarks ' treadmire toil there
Foótfretted in it. Million-fuelèd, ' nature's bonfire burns on.
But quench her bonniest, dearest ' to her, her clearest-selvèd spark
Mán, how fást his fíredint, ' his mark on mind, is gone!
Bóth are in an únfáthomable, áll is in an enórmous dárk
Drowned. O pity and indig ' nation! Manshape, that shone
Sheer off, disséveral, a stár, ' death blots black out; nor mark
Is ány of him at áll so stárk
But vastness blurs and time ' beats level. Enough! the Resurrection,
A héart's-clarion! Awáy grief's gásping, ' joyless days, dejection.
Across my foundering deck shone
A beacon, an eternal beam. ' Flesh fade, and mortal trash
Fáll to the resíduary worm; ' world's wildfire, leave but ash:
In a flash, at a trumpet crash,
I am all at once what Christ is ', since he was what I am, and
Thís Jack, jóke, poor pótsherd, ' patch, matchwood, immortal diamond,
Is immortal diamond.