By Gerard Manley Hopkins
Nothing is so beautiful as Spring –
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.
What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden. – Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.
Daniel is here! His flight arrived after dinner and we went to see Hidden Figures because he hadn't seen it yet (third time for me, and it's not like I could ever get tired of that movie).
My day was not exciting otherwise -- drove Maddy to work, put trip photos on Shutterfly, ate Welsh rarebit for St. David's Day, and took a walk before the thunderstorm arrived to see the neighborhood flowers: