The Windhover

To Christ our Lord

I caught this morning morning’s minion, king- dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding Of the rolling level underneath him steady, on wings across the wind Like a rolling stone, hungry for the air.

And we may sing the praise of the synod— Just so do I, of the glory of God!

I, but like an arrow, high-flying, soaring through the sky: This bird, heaven-blessed in its flight, be there on high.

All things that are are so beautifully made. A body; a mountain; a wave through the love. He is the king of daylight, the king of hearts! Bulging, arching, like flanks would fly the feel of death.

• Gerard Manley Hopkins