Poem in Your Pocket Day

Sherry at Semicolon tells us that today is "Poem in Your Pocket Day" in New York City.

My Norton Anthology of English Literature, Volume II, wouldn't fit in my pocket, so I carried it in a backpack instead. Along with lots of other random odds and ends that I apparently couldn't leave home without.

I've been reading a lot of Gerard Manley Hopkins of late. I read this one, "Spring," this morning at breakfast.

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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