Gerard Manley Hopkins

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

In The Valley Of The Elwy - Poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins

I remember a house where all were good
To me, God knows, deserving no such thing:
Comforting smell breathed at very entering,
Fetched fresh, as I suppose, off some sweet wood.
That cordial air made those kind people a hood
All over, as a bevy of eggs the mothering wing
Will, or mild nights the new morsels of spring:
Why, it seemed of course; seemed of right it should.

Lovely the woods, waters, meadows, combes, vales,
All the air things wear that build this world of Wales;
Only the inmate does not correspond:
God, lover of souls, swaying considerate scales,
Complete thy creature dear O where it fails,
Being mighty a master, being a father and fond.

Comments about In The Valley Of The Elwy by Gerard Manley Hopkins

  • Susan Williams (2/27/2016 1:34:00 PM)

    The final stanza references the scales presumably of justice. He asks God Himself to bring about the balance of the scales, if there is any. He describes God's nature both as a Just master and a Graceful father, which justifies the author' asking for justice. Then he finishes the poem saying how much gratitude and fond remembrance he has for this Welsh valley and saying a prayer for its ancient priest, and himself. (Report)Reply

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  • Edward Kofi Louis (2/27/2016 1:33:00 PM)

    Kind people; with the works of peace. Thanks for sharing. (Report)Reply

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  • (2/27/2016 11:08:00 AM)

    .......a wonderful poem...there is no comparison to the unspoiled beauty of nature ★ (Report)Reply

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  • (2/27/2016 2:12:00 AM)

    Beautifully conceived poem with an even flow and rhyme, as also thought provoking and intriguing too. Thanks for sharing here. (Report)Reply

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  • (2/27/2016 1:55:00 AM)

    Excellent imagery and a nice poem, thanks for sharing. (Report)Reply

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  • Leslie Sharp (10/16/2014 10:36:00 AM)

    Marriage, of heaven and hell. Don't ask me how I feel, I don't even want to reply! I feel hurt. What should I feel? As they laugh be hide my back belittle me day and nite! Call me all foul names of the earth? How much does he need to glorify his earthly wife, with his pockets line with cash. Sick is how I feel. Sick of their foulness of minds. (Report)Reply

    Kim Barney(2/27/2016 1:16:00 AM)

    What does this comment have to do with this poem?

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Read poems about / on: father, remember, spring, house, people, god, world, water

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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