Wooden Krow - None

Gerard Manley Hopkins
No worst, there is none

No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief
More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring
Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?
My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief
Woe, world-sorrow; on an age-old anvil wince and sing
Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked 'No ling
Ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief"

O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne'er hung there. Nor does long our small
Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! Creep
Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all
Life death does end and each day dies with sleep

Written by:
Gerard Hopkins

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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