Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ROSA MYSTICA, by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: The rose is a mystery' -- where is it found? Last Line: Draw me by charity, mother of mine. Subject(s): Flowers; Mary. Mother Of Jesus; Roses; Women In The Bible; Virgin Mary | ||||||||
'The rose is a mystery' -- where is it found? Is it anything true? Does it grow upon ground? It was made of earth's mould, but it went from men's eyes, And its place is a secret and shut in the skies. In the gardens of God, in the daylight divine, Find me a place by thee, Mother of mine. But where was it formerly? Which is the spot That was blest in it once, though now it is not? It is Galilee's growth: it grew at God's will And broke into bloom upon Nazareth hill. In the gardens of God, in the daylight divine, I shall look on thy loveliness, Mother of mine. What was its season then? How long ago? When was the summer that saw the bud blow? Two thousands of years are near upon past Since its birth and its bloom and its breathing its last. In the gardens of God, in the daylight divine, I shall keep time with thee, Mother of mine. Tell me the name now, tell me its name. The heart guesses easily: is it the same? Mary the Virgin, well the heart knows, She is the Mystery, she is the rose. In the gardens of God, in the daylight divine, I shall come home to thee, Mother of mine. Is Mary the rose, then? Mary, the tree? But the blossom, the blossom there -- who can it be? Who can her rose be? It could but be One Christ Jesus our Lord, her God and her Son. In the gardens of God, in the daylight divine, Show me thy Son, Mother, Mother of mine. What was the colour of that blossom bright? -- White to begin with, immaculate white. But what a wild flush on the flakes of it stood When the rose ran in crimsonings down the cross-wood! In the gardens of God, in the daylight divine I shall worship the wounds with thee, Mother of mine. How many leaves had it? -- Five they were then, Five like the senses and members of men; Five is their number by nature, but now They multiply, multiply -- who can tell how? In the gardens of God, in the daylight divine Make me a leaf in thee, Mother of mine. Does it smell sweet, too, in that holy place? Sweet unto God and the sweetness is grace: The breath of it bathes great heaven above In grace that is charity, grace that is love. To thy breast, to thy rest, to thy glory divine Draw me by charity, Mother of mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MADONNA by KATHARINE LEE BATES BALLADE TO OUR LADY OF CZESTOCHOWA by HILAIRE BELLOC OUR LORD AND OUR LADY by HILAIRE BELLOC PLASTIC BEATITUDE by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR A SONG OF MARY by LUCILLE CLIFTON ISLAND MARY by LUCILLE CLIFTON MARY'S DREAM by LUCILLE CLIFTON ABYSS by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS |
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