Gerard Manley Hopkins

Here you will find the Poem Binsey Poplars Felled 79 of poet Gerard Manley Hopkins

Binsey Poplars Felled 79

My aspens dear, whose airy cages quelled,
 Quelled or quenched in leaves the leaping sun,
 {'A}ll f{'e}lled, f{'e}lled, are {'a}ll f{'e}lled;
 Of a fresh |&| following folded rank
 Not spared, not one
 That dandled a sandalled
 Shadow that swam or sank
 On meadow |&| river |&| wind-wandering weed-winding bank.
 O if we but knew what we do
 When we delve or hew --
 Hack |&| rack the growing green!
 Since country is so tender
 To t{'o}uch, her b{'e}ing s{'o} sl{'e}nder,
 That, like this sleek |&| seeing ball
 But a prick will make no eye at all,
 Where we, even where we mean
 To mend her we end her,
 When we hew or delve:
 After-comers cannot guess the beauty been.
 Ten or twelve, only ten or twelve
 Strokes of havoc unselve
 The sweet especial scene,
 Rural scene, a rural scene,
 Sweet especial rural scene.