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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=397224" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On the Portrait of Two Beautiful Young People</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A Brother and Sister</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>O I admire and sorrow! The heart’s eye grieves <br>Discovering you, dark tramplers, tyrant years. <br>A juice rides rich through bluebells, in vine leaves, <br>And beauty’s dearest veriest vein is tears. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Happy the father, mother of these! Too fast:<br>Not that, but thus far, all with frailty, blest <br>In one fair fall; but, for time’s aftercast, <br>Creatures all heft, hope, hazard, interest. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And are they thus? The fine, the fingering beams<br>Their young delightful hour do feature down<br>That fleeted else like day-dissolvèd dreams <br>Or ringlet-race on burling Barrow brown. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She leans on him with such contentment fond <br>As well the sister sits, would well the wife; <br>His looks, the soul’s own letters, see beyond,<br>Gaze on, and fall directly forth on life. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But ah, bright forelock, cluster that you are <br>Of favoured make and mind and health and youth, <br>Where lies your landmark, seamark, or soul’s star? <br>There’s none but truth can stead you. Christ is truth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There ’s none but good can bé good, both for you <br>And what sways with you, maybe this sweet maid; <br>None good but God—a warning wavèd to <br>One once that was found wanting when Good weighed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Man lives that list, that leaning in the will<br>No wisdom can forecast by gauge or guess, <br>The selfless self of self, most strange, most still, <br>Fast furled and all foredrawn to No or Yes. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your feast of; that most in you earnest eye <br>May but call on your banes to more carouse.<br>Worst will the best. What worm was here, we cry, <br>To have havoc-pocked so, see, the hung-heavenward boughs?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Enough: corruption was the world’s first woe. <br>What need I strain my heart beyond my ken? <br>O but I bear my burning witness though<br>Against the wild and wanton work of men.<br>. . . . . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Gerard+Manley+Hopkins">Gerard Manley Hopkins</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=397224" data-title="On the Portrait of Two Beautiful Young People de Gerard Manley Hopkins" data-description="A Brother and Sister


O I admire and sorrow! The heart’s eye grieves 
Discovering you, dark tramplers, tyrant years. 
A juice rides rich through bluebells, in vine leaves, 
And beauty’s dearest veriest vein is tears. 

Happy the father, mothe..."></div>
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