| Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89). Poems. 1918. |
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| 39. (The Soldier) |
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| YES. Why do we áll, seeing of a soldier, bless him? bless | |
| Our redcoats, our tars? Both these being, the greater part, | |
| But frail clay, nay but foul clay. Here it is: the heart, | |
| Since, proud, it calls the calling manly, gives a guess | |
| That, hopes that, makesbelieve, the men must be no less; | 5 |
| It fancies, feigns, deems, dears the artist after his art; | |
| And fain will find as sterling all as all is smart, | |
| And scarlet wear the spirit of wár thére express. | |
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| Mark Christ our King. He knows war, served this soldiering through; | |
| He of all can handle a rope best. There he bides in bliss | 10 |
| Now, and séeing somewhére some mán do all that man can do, | |
| For love he leans forth, needs his neck must fall on, kiss, | |
| And cry ‘O Christ-done deed! So God-made-flesh does too: | |
| Were I come o’er again’ cries Christ ‘it should be this’. | |
| | | See Notes. |
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