To Christ our Lord
I CAUGHT this morning morning-s minion, king-
dom of daylight-s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing, 5
As a skate-s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, -the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion 10
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plà³d makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.
The Windhover
Gerard Manley Hopkins
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Poem topics: beauty, fire, heart, pride, wind, wing, bird, dear, blue, king, level, gold, high, shine, billion, achieve, dawn, morning, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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