Gerard Manley Hopkins

(28 July 1844 – 8 June 1889 / Stratford, Essex)

Gerard Manley Hopkins Poems

1. Andromeda 1/3/2003
2. As Kingfishers Catch Fire 12/31/2002
3. Ash-Boughs 1/3/2003
4. At The Wedding-March 1/3/2003
5. Barnfloor And Winepress 11/25/2003
6. Binsey Poplars 1/3/2003
7. Brothers 1/3/2003
8. Carrion Comfort 12/31/2002
9. Cheery Beggar 1/3/2003
10. Duns Scotus's Oxford 12/31/2002
11. Easter Communion 11/25/2003
12. Epithalamion 1/3/2003
13. Felix Randal 12/31/2002
14. For A Picture Of St. Dorothea 1/3/2003
15. God's Grandeur 12/31/2002
16. Heaven-Haven 1/3/2003
17. Henry Purcell 1/3/2003
18. Hope Holds To Christ 1/3/2003
19. I Wake And Feel The Fell Of Dark 12/31/2002
20. In Honour Of St. Alphonsus Rodriguez 1/13/2003
21. In The Valley Of The Elwy 1/3/2003
22. Inversnaid 1/3/2003
23. It Was A Hard Thing To Undo This Knot -new- 6/25/2015
24. Let Me Be To Thee As The Circling Bird 11/25/2003
25. Love Preparing To Fly 11/25/2003
26. May Magnificat 1/13/2003
27. Moonless Darkness Stands Between 11/25/2003
28. Moonrise 1/3/2003
29. My Own Heart Let Me Have More Have Pity On; Let 1/13/2003
30. My Own Heart Let Me More Have Pity On 1/3/2003
31. No Worst, There Is None 12/31/2002
32. On The Portrait Of Two Beautiful Young People 1/3/2003
33. Patience, Hard Thing! The Hard Thing But To Pray 1/13/2003
34. Peace 1/3/2003
35. Penmaen Pool 1/3/2003
36. Pied Beauty 12/31/2002
37. Repeat That, Repeat 1/3/2003
38. Ribblesdale 1/3/2003
39. Spelt From Sibyl's Leaves 1/3/2003
40. Spring 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Gerard Manley Hopkins

Heaven-Haven

I have desired to go
Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail,
And a few lilies blow.

And I have asked to be
Where no storms come,
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,
And out of the swing of the sea.

Read the full of Heaven-Haven

Tom's Garland

upon the Unemployed


Tom—garlanded with squat and surly steel
Tom; then Tom’s fallowbootfellow piles pick
By him and rips out rockfire homeforth—sturdy Dick;
Tom Heart-at-ease, Tom Navvy: he is all for his meal
Sure, ’s bed now. Low be it: lustily he his low lot (feel
That ne’er need hunger, Tom; Tom seldom sick,

[Hata Bildir]