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Aug. 28th, 2015 09:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlofpreyDavid Platt! Real David Platt! I saw him today. Sucking a lollipop. They ruined it later of course, but still.
Maybe Callum will attack David in his own home, and Max will pick up a knife and stab Callum to defend him.
My dad went to Coventry tonight, to take my empty place in the hotel and give my mum a hand tomorrow. It's very lovely of him, but so much for my plans to charm him into chauffeuring me around tomorrow. Mind you, the way I feel tonight, it probably wouldn't have happened anyway. I've asked him to look out for any PS Vita stuff for me.
The problem with Gerard Manley Hopkins is sometimes it's like this:
"Into the snow she sweeps,
Hurling the haven behind,
The Deutschland, on Sunday; and so the sky keeps,
For the infinite air is unkind,
And the sea flint-flake, black-backed in the regular blow,
Sitting Eastnortheast, in cursed quarter, the wind:
Wiry and white-fiery and whirlwind-swivelled snow
Spins to the widow-making unchilding unfathering deeps."
(from The Wreck of the Deutschland)
And sometimes it's like this:
"What! Country is honour enough in all us---lordly head,
With heaven's lights high hung round, or, mother-ground
That mammocks, mighty foot. But no way sped,
Not mind nor mainstrength; gold go garlanded
With, perilious, O no; nor yet plod safe shod sound;
Undenizened, beyond bound
Of earth's glory, earth's ease, all; no one, nowhere,
In wide the world's weal; rare gold, bold steel, bare
In both; care, but share care---"
(from Tom's Garland: upon the Unemployed)
This is the last hurrah for Gerard Manley Hopkins, before I get rid of my old University pamphlet of his stuff (I figured I'd read it before actually buying books of his). I would like to leave you with two of my favourite passages though.
"I am soft sift
In an hourglass---at the wall
Fast, but mined with a motion, a drift,
And it crowds and it combs to the fall;"
(from The Wreck of the Deutschland)
And the one that had me falling in love with him, in a lecture long ago:
"What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet."
(from Inversnaid)
Maybe Callum will attack David in his own home, and Max will pick up a knife and stab Callum to defend him.
My dad went to Coventry tonight, to take my empty place in the hotel and give my mum a hand tomorrow. It's very lovely of him, but so much for my plans to charm him into chauffeuring me around tomorrow. Mind you, the way I feel tonight, it probably wouldn't have happened anyway. I've asked him to look out for any PS Vita stuff for me.
The problem with Gerard Manley Hopkins is sometimes it's like this:
"Into the snow she sweeps,
Hurling the haven behind,
The Deutschland, on Sunday; and so the sky keeps,
For the infinite air is unkind,
And the sea flint-flake, black-backed in the regular blow,
Sitting Eastnortheast, in cursed quarter, the wind:
Wiry and white-fiery and whirlwind-swivelled snow
Spins to the widow-making unchilding unfathering deeps."
(from The Wreck of the Deutschland)
And sometimes it's like this:
"What! Country is honour enough in all us---lordly head,
With heaven's lights high hung round, or, mother-ground
That mammocks, mighty foot. But no way sped,
Not mind nor mainstrength; gold go garlanded
With, perilious, O no; nor yet plod safe shod sound;
Undenizened, beyond bound
Of earth's glory, earth's ease, all; no one, nowhere,
In wide the world's weal; rare gold, bold steel, bare
In both; care, but share care---"
(from Tom's Garland: upon the Unemployed)
This is the last hurrah for Gerard Manley Hopkins, before I get rid of my old University pamphlet of his stuff (I figured I'd read it before actually buying books of his). I would like to leave you with two of my favourite passages though.
"I am soft sift
In an hourglass---at the wall
Fast, but mined with a motion, a drift,
And it crowds and it combs to the fall;"
(from The Wreck of the Deutschland)
And the one that had me falling in love with him, in a lecture long ago:
"What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet."
(from Inversnaid)
