Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HARRY PLOUGHMAN, by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS



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HARRY PLOUGHMAN, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Hard as hurdle arms, with a broth of goldish flue
Last Line: With-a-fountain's shining-shot furls.
Subject(s): Plowing & Plowmen


HARD as hurdle arms, with a broth of goldish flue
Breathed round; the rack of ribs; the scooped flank; lank
Rope-over thigh; knee-nave; and barrelled shank --
Head and foot, shoulder and shank --
By a grey eye's heed steered well, one crew, fall to;
Stand at stress. Each limb's barrowy brawn, his thew
That onewhere curded, onewhere sucked or sank --
Soared or sank -- ,
Though as a beechbole firm, finds his, as at a roll-call, rank
And features, in flesh, what deed he each must do --
His sinew-service where do.

He leans to it, Harry bends, look. Back, elbow, and liquid waist
In him, all quail to the wallowing o' the plough: 's cheek crimsons;
curls
Wag or crossbridle, in a wind lifted, windlaced --
See his wind- lilylocks -laced;
Churlsgrace, too, child of Amansstrength, how it hangs or hurls
Them -- broad in bluff hide his frowning feet lashed! raced
With, along them, cragiron under and cold furls --
With-a-fountain's shining-shot furls.





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