And, Poverty, be thou the bride
And now the marriage feast begun,
And lily-colored clothes provide
Your spouse not labored-at, nor spun.
SPRING
By Gerard Hopkins, S.J.
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 pear-tree 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 shining,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid's child, thy choice and worthy the winning.
