Linda Barlow

There are days (too many of them!) when writing is beyond me, but reading, hearing, feeling some of my favorite poems is not. Here is one of the lyrics I have loved, and been profoundly moved by, for decades: The poet is Gerard Manley Hopkins, and I’m using the edition posted by the Bartelby Project.

Spring & Fall
by Gerard Manley Hopkins

to a young child

Margaret, áre you gríeving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leáves, líke the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Áh! ás the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It ís the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.