F{'e}lix R{'a}ndal the f{'a}rrier, O is he d{'e}ad then? my d{'u}ty all <br />{'e}nded, <br /> Who have watched his mould of man, bigboned and hardy-handsome <br /> Pining, pining, till time when reason rambled in it, and some <br /> Fatal four disorders, fleshed there, all contended? <br /> Sickness broke him. Impatient, he cursed at first, but mended <br /> Being anointed |&| all; tho' a heavenlier heart began some <br /> M{'o}nths {'e}arlier, since {'I} had our sw{'e}et repr{'i}eve |&| <br />r{'a}nsom <br /> T{'e}ndered to him. {'A}h well, God r{'e}st him {'a}ll road {'e}ver he <br />off{'e}nded! <br /> <br /> This s{'e}eing the s{'i}ck end{'e}ars them t{'o} us, us t{'o}o it <br />end{'e}ars. <br /> My tongue had taught thee comfort, touch had quenched thy tears, <br /> Thy tears that touched my heart, child, Felix, poor Felix Randal; <br /> How far from then forethought of, all thy more boisterous years, <br /> When thou at the random grim forge, powerful amidst peers <br /> Didst fettle for the great grey drayhorse his bright |&| battering <br />sandal!<br /><br />Gerard Manley Hopkins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/felix-randal/
