by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Nothing is so beautiful as spring -
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glossy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue, that blue is all in a rush
With richness; those racing lambs too have fair their fling.
What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden. - Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most O maid's child, thy choice and worthy the winning.
Robin's Nest 