The Windhover

The 35th Poem of the Week is Gerard Manley Hopkins's 'The Windhover' :-

I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird -- the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous. O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

In Chapel this morning Mr Girdham read this poem and 'Hurrahing in Harvest' during a talk on the importance of sound in poetry. As part of this, two of our entrants for the Poetry Aloud competition at the National Library performed poems by Thomas Kinsella - William Maire recited 'A Garden on the Point', and Opeline Kellett 'Tara'.