Categories
Poetry

Sunday Sonnet.

Finding the sonnets of Hopkins is a bit of a challenge. But here is another one. ‘I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day’ I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day. What hours, O what black hours we have spent This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went! […]

Categories
Poetry

Sunday Sonnet.

We may not be in Lent, yet, but Hopkins found that the season of psychological torment did not follow the churchly calendar. He calls despair comforting. To give up. To let the disciplines of your commitment fall apart. Instead he takes up his cross, splinters in his shoulder, and marches on. Carrion Comfort Not, I’ll […]

Categories
Poetry

Sunday Sonnet.

Donne has been used, so let is go from that recusant to a Catholic convert, who found that yoke hard, so hard. For the Church he gave up England for an Ireland that mistrusted his Jesuitism and blood — with good historical reasons. Many speculate on depression. They forget that a man doing his duty […]