| Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89). Poems. 1918. |
| |
| 70. To his Watch |
| |
| |
| MORTAL my mate, bearing my rock-a-heart | |
| Warm beat with cold beat company, shall I | |
| Earlier or you fail at our force, and lie | |
| The ruins of, rifled, once a world of art? | |
| The telling time our task is; time’s some part, | 5 |
| Not all, but we were framed to fail and die— | |
| One spell and well that one. There, ah thereby | |
| Is comfort’s carol of all or woe’s worst smart. | |
| |
| Field-flown, the departed day no morning brings | |
| Saying ‘This was yours’ with her, but new one, worse, | 10 |
| And then that last and shortest… | |
| | | See Notes. |
| |
| |
