Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89). Poems. 1918.

65. Moonrise

I AWOKE in the Midsummer not to call night, ‘ in the white and the walk of the morning:

The moon, dwindled and thinned to the fringe ‘ of a finger-nail held to the candle,

Or paring of paradisaïcal fruit, ‘ lovely in waning but lustreless,

Stepped from the stool, drew back from the barrow, ‘ of dark Maenefa the mountain;

A cusp still clasped him, a fluke yet fanged him, ‘ entangled him, not quit utterly.

This was the prized, the desirable sight, ‘ unsought, presented so easily,

Parted me leaf and leaf, divided me, ‘ eyelid and eyelid of slumber.