Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89). Poems. 1918. | | 41. ‘No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief’ | | | NO worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief, | | More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring. | | Comforter, where, where is your comforting? | | Mary, mother of us, where is your relief? | | My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief | 5 | Woe, world-sorrow; on an age-old anvil wince and sing— | | Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked ‘No ling- | | ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief’. | | | O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall | | Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap | 10 | May who ne’er hung there. Nor does long our small | | Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep, | | Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all | | Life death does end and each day dies with sleep. | | | See Notes. | | | |