spring

a portion of "spring" by gerard manley hopkins...

nothing is to beautiful as spring--
when weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
thrush's eggs look little low heavens,
and thrush
through the echoing timber does so rinse
and wring
the ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear
him sing;
the glassy peartree leaves and blooms,
the descending blue; that blue is all in a
rush
with richness; the racing lambs too
have fair their fling.