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.
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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:
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