Quotes by Gerald Manley Hopkins

Glory be to God for dappled things—    
  For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;    
    For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;    
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;    
  Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
    And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.    
 
All things counter, original, spare, strange;    
  Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)    
    With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;    
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
                  Praise him.

‘THE CHILD is father to the man.’   
How can he be? The words are wild.   
Suck any sense from that who can:   
‘The child is father to the man.’   
No; what the poet did write ran,
‘The man is father to the child.’   
‘The child is father to the man!’   
How can he be? The words are wild.

I do not think I have ever seen anything more beautiful than the bluebell I have been looking at. I know the beauty of our Lord by it.