I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day, <br /> What hours, O what black hours we have spent <br /> This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went! <br /> And more must, in yet longer light's delay. <br /> With witness I speak this. But where I say <br /> Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament <br /> Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent <br /> To dearest him that lives alas! away. <br /> <br /> I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree <br /> Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me; <br /> Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse. <br /> Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see <br /> The lost are like this, and their scourge to be <br /> As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.<br /><br />Gerard Manley Hopkins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-wake-and-feel-the-fell-of-dark/
