Page:Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1918.djvu/37

Rh 35

Dame, at our door

Drowned, and among our shoals,

Remember us in the roads, the heaven-haven of the Reward:

Our King back, oh, upon English souls!

Let him easter in us, be a dayspring to the dimness of us, be a crimson-cresseted east,

More brightening her, rare-dear Britain, as his reign rolls,

Pride, rose, prince, hero of us, high-priest,

Our hearts' charity's hearth's fire, our thoughts' chivalry's throng's Lord.

For the Visitors' Book at the Inn

long for rest, who look for pleasure

Away from counter, court, or school

O where live well your lease of leisure

But here at, here at Penmaen Pool?

You'll dare the Alp? you'll dart the skiff?—

Each sport has here its tackle and tool:

Come, plant the staff by Cadair cliff;

Come, swing the sculls on Penmaen Pool.

What's yonder?—Grizzled Dyphwys dim:

The triple-hummocked Giant's stool,

Hoar messmate, hobs and nobs with him

To halve the bowl of Penmaen Pool.