GOD'S GRANDEUR (Gerald Manley Hopkins)
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
and wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs -
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
It was the centenary celebrations of Fulmer Infant School which my grandson Hamish attends in England. Emma sent copies from the school log which show the degree of suffering experienced by the girls and boys in the early 1900's. It sounds like a long time ago, but it's when David's and my parents were children. Poor wee Mabel Dancer! For more log entries go to 