Page:Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1918.djvu/21





For a Picture of St. Dorothea

a basket lined with grass;

I am so light, I am so fair,

That men must wonder as I pass

And at the basket that I bear,

Where in a newly-drawn green litter

Sweet flowers I carry,—sweets for bitter.

Lilies I shew you, lilies none,

None in Caesar's gardens blow,—

And a quince in hand,—not one

Is set upon your boughs below;

Not set, because their buds not spring;

Spring not, 'cause world is wintering.

But these were found in the East and South

Where Winter is the clime forgot.—

The dewdrop on the larkspur's mouth

O should it then be quenchèd not?

In starry water-meads they drew

These drops: which be they? stars or dew?