Gerard Manley Hopkins - The Shepherd's Brow lyrics

69 THE shepherd's brow fronting forked lightning, owns The horror and the havoc and the glory Of it. Angels fall, they are towers, from heaven—a story Of just, majestical, and giant groans. But man—we, scaffold of score brittle bones; Who breathe, from groundlong babyhood to hoary Age gasp; whose breath is our memento mori— What ba** is our viol for tragic tones? He! Hand to mouth he lives, and voids with shame; And, blazoned in however bold the name, Man Jack the man is, just; his mate a hussy. And I that die these d**hs, that feed this flame, That … in smooth spoons spy life's masque mirrored: tame My tempests there, my fire and fever fussy.